Phenomenon
by Chronsse
Summary: TFA: Years after the end of the War the old Autobot Earth group reunite as Perceptor and Wheeljack prepare an attempt to revive an old friend. And a certain bot who vanished after their arrival on Cybertron decides to show himself again, having changed...
1. The Beginning

Years.

It has been years sense that day, the day Prowl sacrificed himself to save Earth and Cybertron, as well as Optimus himself. A long time, too long. When they returned with the Allspark, captured Decepticon Highest, and Prowl's offline body Cybertron had rejoiced. Very few knew Prowl, of so very few. So he was not mourned by many, in fact the only who seemed to care were Optimus Prime and his group, as well as Sentinel Prime/Magnus' group. And Ultra Magnus when he was fully able again. No one else knew him, the few who did cared not of his fate. It was sad.

An angering.

After Megatron and his men were locked away, and a celebration set way, Optimus' first action afterword was to confront the Magnus - still Sentinel at the time - and request Prowl's revival. He was turned down almost immediately. But it wasn't Sentinel who said no, it was the Council. Surprisingly enough, Sentinel took Optimus straight to the Council, and requested that they consider bringing the Cyber Ninja back online, sense it was he who saved them all. They turned them both down. And neither could do anything about it.

They tried, of they tried. The two of them argued and threatened them, but the Council would not be persuaded. They closed to two out entirely, and wouldn't even consider it. But neither was willing to give up so easily, Sentinel went to the next best option.

Perceptor.

It was rather easy to convince the Scientist to help them, he agreed the moment they asked. It was surprising to the two, but they had not problem with it. He went and requested to study the Allspark, claiming that it could be unstable from missing it's power, or unstable from something it may have come into contact with. Even went so far as to say Prowl's spark energy could cause it to become unstable. Not willing to risk it, he was given clearance to study it.

Since then, he has been trying to find a way to revive using it's Energy. "It's easy to just stick another spark into him," He had explained. "But it runs a chance of being someone entirely new, rather than Prowl. I want to find a way to make sure I am not just using his old body as a shell for a new Spark that isn't him." Well, more or less so. This was more Wheeljack's "dumbed down" version, sense their had understood a word that came out of Perceptor's mouth in his distracted state with the Allspark fragments.

It could take weeks, months, years...

It took years, but not it seemed he has found a way.

Years too long, Optimus decided as he sat in the Lab, leaned forward with an elbow on his leg, and head in his hand. When his group arrived on Cybertron, shortly after their arrival and all the Ceremonies in their favor, they all went their separate ways. Bumblebee was the first to leave, saying he wanted to visit old friends, and that he couldn't "stomach anymore ceremonies". He had waved goodbye, and had left. And it seemed as if the little yellow mech had disappeared of the face of the planet. No one knew his whereabouts, no one has heard from him since that day.

He vanished into thin air, it seems.

Ratchet was next to leave, saying the same thing as Bumblebee, pretty much. He didn't leave the city, however. He worked in a local "Hospital" for a while, before opening his own "home clinic". He wasn't exactly a doctor anymore, but would be willing to help anyone who needed it, but couldn't afford a Hospital or Doctor. "Working for the poor," he had called it. He decided the Elite Guard could shove their laws up their afts, because he didn't like the fact so many bots, young and old, were out on the street sick. He kept in contact with everyone. And was expected to arrive here soon.

Bulkhead left after that, went back to his "home on the farm" to visit friends and family. He came back soon and went back to repairing space bridges for a while, before returning home to take over for his Creator. He kept in contact too, and even came to visit every now and then. He had kept up his art, now crafting things as well as painting. And even sells some of his pieces for quite a fair price. Optimus smiled at that, looking up and noticing one of the pieces Wheeljack had bought from him hanging on the wall. The Inventor having never been to Earth, purchased a picture of Dinobot Island from Bulkhead soon after they first arrived.

He was Bulkhead's first customer.

Then there is Sari...

She stayed for a while, stayed with Optimus in the City, went exploring, and eventually left for home. But years have passed. They found she does outlive most humans, but not by many years. After her Father died, she became somewhat depressive for a while. Came to live on Cybertron. She lived with Optimus after that, and the years just kept passing. She grew older and older, but her form didn't change much after she became an adult. She grew to be beautiful, and though her looks never changed after that, her body is still half organic, apparently more so than Cybertronian.

She died a few years back, though he had to admit he wasn't entirely sure if it was of old age. Her appearance hadn't changed much after she became an adult, as said, but she had started acting slow, weak, and sickly. The doctors of the city never found anything wrong, even Ratchet said he didn't know. In the end he wrote it off as her missing her home, her family, and her friends. One day she went into recharge, and never came back out. Ratchet checked her over when Optimus called, and sadly pronounced her offline. It was a dark day, especially sense her last night had been of her begging Optimus to find Bumblebee, because she wanted to see him.

And to this day Optimuus regrets the fact he didn't...and has a feeling she knew...she knew she wasn't going to wake back up.

With a sound of the chime, Optimus looked up as the door to the lab slid open. He smiled slightly as Ratchet walked in, being greeted by Wheeljack who then motioned towards Prime. Ratchet eyed him, nodded to Wheeljack and walked over to the firetruck, taking a seat next to him with a huff and a sigh. Optimus didn't move, simply looked down to the floor as the Older Mech sat down. A moment of silence passed between them before Wheeljack made a sound similar to a human clearing their throat across the room.

"So," Ratchet started, narrowing his optics at Wheeljack, who turned back to his work. "Did you manage to get in contact with everyone?" He looked to the former Autobot Earth Commander, and watched as he shuffled and sighed. "No." With a frown, he looked up to Ratchet. "I got Bulkhead and you...but not Bumblebee..." Ratchet huffed, and leaned over, crossing his arms over his lap and glaring at the table with Prowl's offline body on it. Wires hooked to him, straps holding him down. What exactly did they expect to happen when he comes back online?

If he does.

"I figured as much." He sighed, leaned back, pressing his back against the behind the bench they now sat on. "Damn kid, missed so much since he's left. Couldn't even get in contact with him to tell him about Sari. I have a feeling he probably knows, though. I don't know why but...it's just a feeling." Ratchet shrugged and Optimus nodded. "He blocked us all out." The medic continued. "Even Bulkhead and Sari. He shut us all off and ran away. Little brat..." Ratchet let out another sigh, Optimus smiled sadly. "After Prowl died...I guess he took it harder than we thought. He was talking about all sorts of things he wanted to do after the war while we were on Earth. He did become very quiet after everything happened... He kept smiling but never said much, if anything...I guess that should have been our first clue that something was wrong." Optimus shifted again, and leaned back against the wall like Ratchet.

"That's not fair." Ratchet mumbles, shifting to look at Perceptor, who is hooking more wires and cables to Prowl. "We all took it pretty damn hard, why should _he _get to run away from it all?" Both shift to look at the door as it slides open again, Bulkhead looks around and Wheeljack beckons him in, motioning towards Optimus and Ratchet. Optimus smiles, waving him over. With a sad smile, Bulkhead walks over. Ratchet gives him a half pout. "I see you went and grew up without us." He mumbled non-heatedly, as he looks the mech up and down.

Optimus smiled, indeed Bulkhead has gotten his Adult Upgrade now. In fact, it wasn't long ago. Optimus heard about it, sense he and Bulkhead kept in contact. Either Ratchet didn't know, or just wanted to play around on giving Bulkhead a hard time. With a smile, the still green mech sits by them on the floor, waving large hands. "Sorry Ratchet. I also kinda figured it would be you who would upgrade me to my adult armor. Guess not, though." With a smirk, Ratchet waves him off. "S'fine, fine. I understand. Why come to the old medic when they have all these pretty young femmes around, right?" Bulkhead chuckles along with the medic, giving him a light, playful punch in the arm.

The mood darkens soon enough though, as Bulkhead vents a sigh. Suppose none can resist doing so in these conditions. "Couldn't get a hold of 'Bee, could you?" He lowers his head and stare at the ground after getting a shake of the head from the two older mechs. "Sorry Bulkhead..." Optimus apologizes, standing and walking over to him to place a hand on his shoulder. Bulkhead shrugs, and smiles at Optimus. "I miss him, you know." He admits, Optimus smiles sadly, nodding.

"We all do, kid." Ratchet mumbles as he leans back again.

"Who?" Optimus turns to look at Perceptor, who had walked up to them holding a datapad, probably to announce they were ready to begin. "Bumblebee." Bulkhead replies without much thought or hesitation, it earns a slight tilt of the head from Perceptor. "We can wait for him." The scientist offers, everyone glances to him. Ratchet frowns, about to state that they had no way to contact him, and that he wouldn't be coming. "Yeah, we got a transmission from him a while back, he's returning to Cybertron. No worries, I informed him about it. He should be here later." Wheeljack calls distractedly from across the lab, meddling with something most of the wires connected to Prowl connect from.

A pause.

"Wait, he coming? Here?"

"He was off planet?"

"I'm going to kill that kid!"

Ratchet stands and turns to Optimus. "That's why none of us can get a hold of him! Damn kid went off planet!" The medic growls, glaring at Optimus as if he were the minibot himself. Optimus frowns. "I wonder why. Why didn't he tell us? Where did he go?" Holding a hand to his chin he looks to the ground, trying to think of answers to his own questions. "He said he was going home..." Everyone glances to Bulkhead, who frowns up at them with a confused expression as he continues.

"He never said his home was _on _Cybertron."

* * *

**Authors Note: **AUGH I am such a bad writer. But I write when I get bored or get ideas, I wish I was better at it. But I'm not. Anyways, hope you enjoy! Next chapter coming soon! If you see any mistakes feel free to point them out! I'll go through and fix them~

**Disclaimer: **Transformers does not belong to me, nor do any of it's Characters.


	2. Reunion

The room was a mix of emotions, anger, confusion, curiosity, sadness.

Ratchet took up punching the wall before turning to Optimus. "The Pit could he live, then? Most of the other planets were destroyed during the war..." A pause, and optics all locked on the door as the chime sounded. It seemed as if time around them froze, and the door was opening in slow motion. It slid open, a moment passed before the first pede stepped through the doorway. Optics focused on the figure as it made it's way in.

Intakes hitched, and Optimus could has sworn it was Prowl who just walked through that door.

But it wasn't.

There stood a mech about Prowl's height, maybe taller. Armor golden and black, equal amount of both colors. His chassis and lower arms a dark, shining gold, as well as his pedes and knees. His helm as well. His upper legs, arms, neck and waist down all black, aside from his hip piece which reflected silver. Helm has an oddly familiar shape to the helmet Prowl once wore. Only colored slightly different. The helm being black, the emblem on his forehead shaped slightly different, upside down, still golden though. But it had golden and silver streaks. And of course, the emblem was smaller, and he still had horns. Larger horns, and shaped different, as if they could fold back into his helmet. And judging by how they seemed to perk, possibly movable. He stood tall, one arm bent halfway over his shoulder holding a bag loosely over his back, dangling by a strong curled around his silver hands. His expression neutral, and his optics violet.

Shifting his weight to the side opposite of them, those optics focused on the small group and a small smile crept over his silver faceplate.

"Hey," The mech spoke soft and evenly. His voice calm, somewhat comforting. "Long time no see, Boss-bot, Bulky, Hatchet." He smiled somewhat wider as Ratchet sneered at the nickname. He turned to fully face them, dropping his bag to the ground softly, he held out his arms as if inviting them in for a hug. "It's good to see you all again!" His voice sounded a bit more cheerful now, but it still sounded unfamiliar to them all. Bulkhead took a hesitant step towards the bot.

"Little buddy?" Violet eyes shifted to look up into Bulkhead's optics. "Yeah, though I'm not quite so little anymore, eh?" He laughed.

A familiar, almost carefree laugh. And Bulkhead brightened, grabbing Bumblebee and pulling the still laughing bot into a hug. Which he happily returned. "It's good to see you!" If they didn't know any better, they would say he was crying with joy. Similar to how Sari used to do. He swung Bumblebee around, hugging him close, yet gently, and as if he let him go the golden mech would disappear again. "Yeah, sorry about that. I didn't really stop to think that communications would be out if I left Cybertron. Once I got to where I was going though..it took me a while to drag myself back here." Bulkhead carefully put the smaller mech down, but kept a hand on his shoulder.

"It's good to have you back, Bumblebee." Optimus smiled as he walked up, and placed a welcoming hand on Bumblebee's shoulder. Bumblebee huffed, and gave him an accusing look. "I'm gone for years and all I get is a pat on the shoulder?" He smacked the hand off and held his arms out. "Screw that, I demand a hug!" He waved his hands for emphasis, glaring at Optimus. With a confused look, a chuckle, and the shake of a head, Optimus stepped forward and gave the - still slightly smaller - gold and black mech a hug. Which Bumblebee took with a smile, head reaching just above Optimus' shoulder, which only proved to make him smile more.

_"I've gotten tall!" _He thought happily, before releasing his former Commander and turning to Ratchet, thrusting his arms out towards the grumpy looking medic. "You too, Ratchy!" He cheered happily, as if asking his own Grandfather for a hug. Ratchet gave him a look resembling that of an Autobot Soldier who just got asked for a hug from Megatron himself. Optics wide, mouth pressed in a form somewhat wavered line. He looked absolutely _horrified_, which only served to make Bumblebee's desire for a hug stronger.

He waved his arms around. "C'mon, don't be shy! I wont bite!" His smile never falter in the least when Ratchet suddenly started shuffling towards the door, which Wheeljack had locked after the last member got in, so they wouldn't be disturbed when they started the process. Sense no one was supposed to...know about it.

"Alright, we're ready to start." Perceptor interrupted their little reunion with their formerly missing Bee. Everyone looked to him, Bumblebee dropped his arms and nodded, forgetting about Ratchet for the moment. Perceptor motioned for them to sit, and they all obliged. Sitting down on the bench Ratchet and Optimus formerly occupied, they watched intently as Perceptor walked over, and flipped on the switch to a machine, which had a small fragment of the Allspark visible through the glass atop it.

Bumblebee pieced it to looking similar to "test tubes" he'd seen in old Horror movies back on Earth, that Mad Scientists used.

With that thought, he scooted farther back on the bench, up until his back pressed firmly against the wall. "horns" folded back slightly, he had a feeling he used to get before someone shot him, or he got thrown off a building or high road. You know, the feeling he was probably going to get shot. And thrown off of something. Duh.

Sitting in the floor would probably be a good idea.

Ratchet went unaffected, he did feel nervous, but pushed it aside as worry. Optimus did the opposite of Bumblebee, leaning forward in his seat and staring intently at the main hose hooking directly into Prowl's empty spark chamber. Bulkhead - having watched movies with Bumblebee - took up a position similar to the gold and black mech. Leaning as far back against the wall as possible.

Wheeljack punched a couple of keys, and suddenly the entire room filled with the radiant blue glow of the Allspark. Everyone shielding their optics as the process started, all but Wheeljack who stared with fascination as the Allspark shifted it's energy down the hose connecting to Prowl's spark chamber. Quickly, the two scientists started working with various machines, and slowly the energy seeped into the grew chamber, warping into a sphere.

After a moment, Wheeljack deactivated the machine, the glow disappearing back into the chamber and fading to a dull glow around the Allspark, leaving a barley pulsing spark in Prowl's spark chamber.

Quickly the two started activating other machines, filtering in Energon and energy to strengthen to new, weakening spark. Ratchet - without much thought - quickly stood to aid them. His three former teammates sitting back, watching helplessly form the sidelines, unable to do anything to help without getting in the way. They watch as the three run around the room, activating and shutting down various machines, Ratchet having started to work on the old injuries no one repaired after Prowl's final battle.

The only light being that over the now makeshift "operating table", the dull glow of Prowl's spark, and the live giving Energon they are pumping into his dried lines. As well as the glow of their own optics.

Blue meshes with Violet.

And gold.

* * *

**Authors Notes: **Will questions be answered? Will Prowl managed to pull through, as himself? Will Bumblebee ever get that hug? Find out, in chapters to come!

**Disclaimer: **Transformers does not belong to me, nor do any of the Characters.


	3. Awakening

Gold.

Often a color that represents honor, bravery, loyalty, and trust. Earthlings use it for medals they give to Soldiers after the War, often so, even Soldiers that did not survive that War. A sign a honor and bravery for Warriors who defended their home, their friends, their family, and their freedom. It isn't just a color, it's a symbol. It's a sign.

And that simple fact is why there are very, oh so very few mechs and femmes out there with the color.

Oh, of course you see yellow mechs, sometimes such a dark color they look almost gold. But aren't _gold_. It's a rare color, a color very few have. A color _Prowl _had, Prowl _has_. And now Bumblebee as well. He had gone away that familiar bright, friendly, carefree yellow. And came back a dark, shining, noble gold.

Bumblebee shifted to sit forward, optics locked on Prowl as Ratchet, Perceptor, and Wheeljack rushed around to try and stabilize his revived spark. They had been at it for a few minutes now, and finally started to slow down. With a sigh, Ratchet hooked up one last machine. A monitor, showing the pulse of Prowl's spark. A soft, stable pulse. But still slightly weaker than the average. Not dangerously so, though. And not all that concerning considering all that happened. Having just been "reformed".

Finally Ratchet turned, smiling slightly, and motioned them over.

The three quickly got to their pedes, quickly making their way over and Perceptor and Wheeljack moved to clean up the machines and wiring they had made a mess of in their haste to get things underway. Bumblebee proved faster than the others, as usual. He was at Prowl's side leaning over him slightly faster than the others could blink. It startled Ratchet, but he shoved it aside. Figuring it was merely because the kid hadn't been around for so long, he wasn't used to his speed anymore.

But the kid had to bend over slightly in order to rest his hands on the berth. And it was now that Ratchet actually took the time to realize the brat was taller than him. Which now made him the smallest member of this little group. He half glared at the black and gold mech for a moment, before turning to look at Prowl. Now alive, and stable. But still in stasis. He weighed the options of bringing him back online, or waiting for his systems to bring him back on themselves. And with a shrug, decided the later proved less of a risk of causing possible damage to the ninjabot's CPU.

Bumblebee seemed to be intent on making him wake up though. Still leaning over the mech, he lifted his right hand and poked his silver jaw. Ratchet glared again, but didn't move to stop him. Once a bumbler, always a bumbler. He'd probably get scolded or hit for it later anyway. Optimus didn't seem to notice, or mind, he was busying himself with staring at the monitor giving off the readings of the ninjabots spark pulses. Still weak, but stable.

Bulkhead noticed, and quietly tried to get Bumblebee to stop.

He went ignored.

"He doesn't look any different." Bumblebee half pouted. "We all went and grew up, and he's still the same as always. That's depressing. Does that make us older than him now?" He smirked playfully, as he continued to poke the offline mech. "No, Bumblebee. It doesn't." Ratchet sighed, and went over to slap his hand away. Bumblebee pouted again. He glanced back over Prowl, and shrugged. "Oh well. He still probably looks older than me anyway...Probably." Ratchet side-glanced at the mech, who had taken up a thoughtful expression on his faceplate. "In fact," Ratchet blinked as Bumblebee smiled at him. "Have a mirror? I have no clue what I look like."

If this were some sort of "anime" like Bumblebee and Sari used to watch, this would be the part where Ratchet would fall to the floor, and his pedes would be the only thing visible from his position on the floor. But it wasn't, so he settled for a stumped look. Staring at Bumblebee with wide, shocked optics as the taller - much taller, dammit, - mech continued to smile at him. He wavered slightly after a moment, he chuckled nervously. "I didn't break ya, did I med-bot?"Bumblebee did an experimental poke, jabbing Ratchet in the forehead. With a twitch, Ratchet slapped his hand away.

"We don't have any mirrors in here, it's a lab, they would all be broken by now. I'll give you one later." He gave Bumblebee a suspicious glare before turning back to Prowl.

Bumblebee shrugged it off and bent over to lean on the berth again, he kneeled down and folded his arms across, up-righting his right arm on the elbow, and placing his head in his hand. He stared at Prowl, who honestly looked like he was recharging now. It struck Bumblebee that he had never seen the ninjabot recharge before. He huffed. _"Figures," _He thought, shifting to halt glare at Prowl's face. _"Takes him off-lining for me to see him asleep." _With a sigh, he tilted his head around to look at Optimus, who was now actually looking at Prowl instead of the spark monitor.

Though he would glance at it again every five to ten seconds.

"So, Boss-bot," Optimus jumped a bit, and looked to Bumblebee somewhat startled. He quickly stifled the expression and smiled. "You spark bonded yet?" And there was that shocked expression again. He couldn't quite hide it, so he mixed it with a forced, embarrassed smile. "W-what?" Bumblebee humored him with a mildly amused smirk, Optimus chuckled. "No, I haven't. Why do you ask?" Bumblebee placed his arm down, and his head atop them as he smiled. "Just wondering. I haven't seen any of you in a while, I figure it anyone was to get bonded before I got back it would probably be you." He glanced at Ratchet. "Or medi-bot here if he managed to get lucky with Arcee."

Optimus visibly flinched away from the two as Ratchet spun around - with a rather LARGE wrench in his hand - and hit Bumblebee upside the head. It made a loud, _CLANK. _Bumblebee yelped, rubbed the spot on his head, and gave Ratchet a hurt expression. "Why'd you do that!" The corner os his mouth twitched, he tried passing it off as a quiver. Ratchet knew better. He hit Bumblebee upside the head again, knowing he looked flustered, and stomped off.

Bumblebee hit the ground with the second hit, and held the two new dents in his helmet. He sprawled out on the floor, somewhat under the berth, and smiled up at Optimus. "I didn't know Ratchet could blush." He grinned and chuckled. Before moaning; "Oww, laughing gives me a headache..." He cradled his head in his hands as he sat up, dodging the berth as he nearly hit his head, and stood up. He rubbed absently at the dent as he knelt over Prowl again.

The ninjabot twitched.

Bumblebee made a squeaking sound, and smacked Optimus (rather hard) in the arm. "I think he's waking up!" Rubbing at the now sore spot on his upper arm, Optimus took up leaning over the berth as well, peering down at Prowl's relaxed faceplate. It tensed slightly before relaxing, and his shifted his head lightly to the left. "I'll go get Ratchet!" Bumblebee exclaimed before running off in the direction the medic had stalked off in earlier.

Optimus didn't take his optics off of Prowl. The cycle-former mumbled slightly, shifting his head back towards Optimus as his optics slowly fluttered to life. Only to out again a moment later, and back on. The ninjabot groaned, and slowly brought his optics fully online, his visor lighting up with them. Optimus smiled as he turned his head to look at him, a confused expression crossing over his faceplate for a brief moment. Were Optimus human, he would have held his breath in anticipation. After all, they had said he could come back as Prowl, or someone else, or that he may not remember anything.

Slowly, the black shifted to look around, before he locked onto Optimus again.

"Optimus?" The firetruck nearly jumped for joy, glad Prowl remembered him. But Prowl was confused, no time to freak him out. "Yes, Prowl?" He asked softly, and Prowl blinked at him again. "You look different." Optimus faltered slightly, chuckling. He quickly stifled it down and got serious again. "I do, it had been a long time sense you were last able to see me." Prowl frowned at him, tilting his head in confusion. Optimus chuckled, shaking his head. "If you think I look different, you should see Bumblebee." The firetruck frowned and looked around, Bumblebee sure was taking a while.

"Where are we?"

His optics locked on Prowl as the ninjabot looked around. "Cybertron. You're in Wheeljack and Perceptor's lab." That soft, comforting smile returned as he carefully placed a hand on Prowl's shoulder. "Welcome home, Prowl." The ninjabot nodded to him, and returned the smile. "Thanks for reviving me. "The smiled faded. "I know I was dead. You didn't break anything trying to bring me back, did you?" It looks could kill, well, Optimus wouldn't be dead. He had a feeling he'd be pinned to the wall, though. "No, no, everything went smoothly." Both jumped as Wheeljack came bounding up to them, he slapped a wire to Prowl's head, which connected to a data-pad in his hand, and started to run various scans.

Prowl looked startled, staring at the engineer with wide optics. Optimus tried to force down his expressions and regain the pride he'd lost when he jumped a good few feet in the air.

It was about then that Ratchet came rushing to, sliding to a stop to look Prowl over. He glared at Wheeljack, who sheepishly gave him the data-pad before turning and scampering off to Perceptor and Bulkhead, whom the scientist had stolen momentarily before Prowl awoke. Ratchet looked at the pad, hummed, and sat it down. "How are you feeling?" He asked, grabbing a tool in on hand, Prowl's right arm in the other, and working on one of the smaller injuries he was too busy to repair moments ago.

Prowl stared at him for a moment, before smiling. "Fine. For a mech who _just _came back online." Ratchet gave him a non-heated glare, and picked back up the pad. "Aside the bit of damage you got in your last battle, you're fine. Good as new. I'll work out all the little kinks in your armor later, in my med-bay. Where I have the proper tools." He stated, distractedly, as he poked at the pad. Not a moment later, Bulkhead came walking over, he smile widely at Prowl, resisting the urge to scoop the ninja up in a hug. "Prowl! Good to see you online again!" Prowl smiled back.

"Thanks Bulkhead. I see you've gone and grown up without me." Bulkhead smiled sheepishly, chuckling. Ratchet sent him a glare, which only made the large green mech chuckle. "Ratchet's holding that against me, too." Prowl nodded, still smiling. "But not as much as he's holding it against 'Bee." It was added without a thought, and Prowl gave Bulkhead a curious, confused look. Bulkhead shrugged.

"Aw, yer all just mad I can go 'poof' and no one can find me, and you can't." Prowl turned to look at the strange gold mech as he bounded towards them, a large grin plastered on his bright silver faceplate. Ratchet sent him a glare. "No, we're just mad you went 'poof' without telling us. We'd started to think you'd gone and off-lined somewhere." The grin faltered slightly, and he shrugged. "Sorry, I already told you I didn't think about the fact our comm. wouldn't work before I left. I forgot, sorry. It tends to happen. Especially to me. A lot." He stopped as he came within a few inches of the berth.

He kneeled over, and poked Prowl right in the forehead, yet kept his optics locked on Ratchet.

"At least I didn't offline, right?" He flicked them emblem on Prowl's forehead before standing straight again, smiling. "Good to have you back, Ninjabot." Prowl frowned, looking confused. Until the mech chuckled, giving him a goofy grin. Optics widened under their visor, and Prowl's jaw dropped, his mouth slightly agape.

"Bumblebee?"

* * *

**Authors Notes:** http:/ / crosse-tales. deviantart .com/art/Phenomenon-Bumblebee-197386322 - Lookie! A kindabadbutwasthebestIcoulddo Phenomenon Bumblebee ref! The colors kinda off (mainly with the designs on his legs), but it's close enough. Sorry it isn't great, my first time drawing any sort of animated Transformer. It was an attempt to make up for the not very good descritpion I gave. Though it turned out just as bad. I haven't drawn animated characters before. Funny how the more complex G1 characters are easier for me...sorry again! Have to remove the spaces for the link to work~

Prowl's awake, and slow it seems. He's a bit OOC due to the fact he just woke up from being dead for a good hundred to thousand so years. Heh heh.

**Disclaimer: **Transformers does not belong to me, nor do any of it's Characters.


	4. Aware

"Well DUH!" Bumblebee was grinning the widest his face would allow, and it looked like it _hurt _but he didn't seem to _care_. "Who do you think I am? Cliffjumper?" He crossed his arms over his chest-plate. "You _didn't_ think I was Cliff', did ya?" He gave Prowl a skeptical look when the ninjabot could do nothing but shake his head, no. After a few minutes of staring at each-other, Prowl's face twisted into a scowl. "Nice helmet."

Never before had Bumblebee looked so horrified as he did then.

"Thaaaanks~" He shuffled away from the newly online mech and hid somewhat behind Ratchet. "Made it myself!" Prowl's optics never broke contact with the golden mech. "Out of what, exactly?" That was the tone Prowl used to use on 'Bee when he was "interrogating" him, usually after a prank gone wrong or something went missing. A"lie to me and you get a shuriken to the face" tone. Because Prowl has that "i know when you lie" ability. But then again, Bumblebee has always been somewhat easy to read.

Either way, the golden mech hadn't forgot that tone.

"Out of some old helms," He hid a bit farther behind Ratchet. "I found on Earth when I went there a few years ago." Prowl appeared to be having no trouble moving, already sitting up (with a fretting Optimus hovering beside him afraid he might have a sudden attack of weakness), glaring at Bumblebee. If looks could kill Bumblebee would have been dead back on Earth all those years ago. Instead he stood cowering behind Ratchet, who didn't seem to care and would probably move if Prowl decided he might want to get physical.

"Old helms. Who's old helms?" Bumblebee couldn't dodge that. They were the only ones on Earth who ever had anything, such as spare helms, stored there. Violet optics locked onto the blue visor for a moment, before glancing to the exit. Prowl had made if perfectly clear to Bumblebee a long time ago that if he _ever _thought about so much as _glancing _at any of Prowl's helmets (after he had stated they would look better on him than the ninjabot) that Prowl would do the transformers equivalent of "gutting" the little mech.

Not so little now, but still.

"Well...um...I...umm...OH lookit the time! Gottagobye!" He snatched his bag, and spun to run out the door. He paused, however, and spun back around, wrapping his arms around Ratchet from behind. "HA! Got my hug!" He exclaimed as the medic stiffened, before spinning around and running out the door, leaving behind a very confused crowd. Silent reined for a moment, before stifled snicker from Wheeljack filled the void. Everyone snapped back to reality.

"His hug?" Prowl gave Ratchet a confused look, the medic glared back. "Little glitch insisted he needed a hug instead of a handshake after being away from all of us so long." He grumbled, folding his arms over his chest-plate with a huff. Prowl stared at him for a moment, before mentally shrugging. "So, when can I...move?" He asked, motioning in the air for not real reason. His joints creaked a bit from lack of use. Ratchet glared. "No time soon. We don't know how your "revival" went, exactly. Your spark is still too weak to risk movement anyway. Your body has been offline for years so I need to make sure it's still fully functional. Not to mention..." Prowl stared as the medic continued to go on and on, telling him about things wrong, that could go wrong, that might be wrong, that need to be fixed, checked, reprogrammed, the list went on and on and so did he.

"So, your stuck here for a while." Ratchet finished, looking at grumpy as ever. Glancing the Optimus and Bulkehead, Prowl sighed. "Here. As in here in this lab? Or will I be moved to a med-bay?" Ratchet went to answer, Optimus beat him to it. "Here, we can't risk moving you yet. We...weren't exactly supposed to try and bring you back." Optimus smiled nervously. "So, got to keep you hidden until I managed to...explain...to everyone...that you're back online."

Prowl gaped at him for a few moments, before slowly shaking it off. "Weren't given permis-who knows then? Who all know about my revival?"

Optimus looked at him for a moment. "Well us, of course." He smiled. "Wheeljack and Perceptor...Jazz..." He grew a thoughtful look for a few moments, and shrugged. "Ultra Magnus and...and Sentinel." Prowl gaped at him again. That was actually a lot more mechs than he'd guessed. "Wait wait...it Ultra Magnus knows...then how do you not have permission to revive me?" Optimus went to answer, only for Ratchet to interrupt him. "The higher Council don't know. They agreed that they shouldn't risk the Allspark for you. Ultra Magnus didn't. Neither did Sentinel, who was Magnus at the time." And there was that utterly shocked look again.

Prowl trained his expression again, and nodded. "Okay then..." How long had he been dead again? Long enough for Sentinel to want him back? Must have been longer then he could guess.

With a thoughtful expression, Prowl looked down to his hands. He'd died, and come back. Everyone was here to see him, everyone was glad to see him and everyone's changed (physically...except Ratchet). Everyone's grown up, done a lot sense he was last online. Everyone, even Bumblebee...wait.

"Where's Sar-" He was cut off by a very, _very _sharp pain under the armor of his upper right arm. He looked there, wrapping his left hand around the offended area as Ratchet held up an empty needle. "You need to recharge to get healthy again, Prowl." He stated simply, before turning and walking over to Bulkhead. Prowl sputtered. "Don't you think you should _tell _me when you do that?" He rubbed the sore spot of his arm, that needle felt huge! "I just did, didn't I?" "No!" Ratchet shrugged and Prowl scowled.

He turned to look at Optimus, who at least had the decency to look guilty for not warning him. "Optimus," Prowl sighed, laying back on his berth as the Prime came to stand at his side, smile ever present. "Yeah, Prowl?" He asked, watching as Prowl began to fall into a state of recharge. The black mech turned to look him straight in the optics, already feeling the effect take hold. "Where...Where's Sari?" He shuttered his optics for a moment, before looking back to Optimus' frowning face...

He knew it the moment Optimus' expression grew grim and sad.

"She passed away years ago, Prowl." Optimus said, turning his head to avoid his friend's optics. Prowl frowned, but nothing else.

"Okay."

Darkness overcame him after that, the last thing his optics caught was Optimus slowly walking away.

* * *

**Authors Notes: **I updated! Yaaaay~ Truth is I kind of lost the inspiration for this story for a few days...didn't think I'd be writing a new Chapter for a while. But I for bored...and didn't want to disappoint anyone by putting it on Hiatus so...here ya go! Hope you like!

**Disclaimer: **Transformers does not belong to me, nor do any of it's Characters.


	5. Like A Kitten

The echo of metal against metal filled the halls, as Bumblebee walked them, large sack thrown over his shoulder. His violet optics locked on the ground as he made his way to meet the one whom had requested his presence shortly after Prowl woke. It was the only reason he hadn't stayed with his former Teammates. He narrowed his optics as he made another turn, he couldn't help but wonder what the Head of Intel could want with him. Well, if they were who he last remembered them to be...they may just be nosy.

He couldn't hide the smirk that spread across his face at that. Somehow he doubted it would be something as silly as that, but even so, it wouldn't be a first.

He came to a stop, wait none-to-patiently for the Elevator doors before him to open, as he pressed to call. Only a few seconds in he was already tapping his right foot. He wouldn't deny he had changed in the years he was away from Cybertron, but patience was still a virtue he didn't have. And probably never would. He crossed his arms, putting his weight more so on his right foot than left, leaning his hip out in a way similar to how Sari used to when they were on Earth.

It probably made him look "girly", but he really didn't care what others thought of him. They could take their opinions, good or bad, and shove it up their exhaust port.

The Elevator dinged, and the doors opened. With a sigh of relief, Bumblebee stepped in. He pressed the key for ground floor, and crossed his arms, leaning against the wall of the Elevator.

"Wait! Hold th' Elevator!"

Without bothering to look, Bumblebee pressed the hold, and waited for the other to make it through the doors, his hand hovered over the key. Not a moment after he pressed it to hold, a mech about a head shorter than him, sporting white and black armor, stumbled in. Bumblebee hit another key, and the elevator started to descend. "Sorry, hope you're going to ground level, I kind of hit the key before you called out." The golden mech apologized, as he turned to look at the slightly smaller mech.

He narrowed his violet optics at the visor-ed mech, and smiled when he got a confused frown.

"Hey, Jazz." Bumblebee sing-songed as he smirked at the ninjabot. Who's frown deepened, he looked lost. He half shuttered his violet optics, smirk in place, and waited as the gears turned in the older mechs head. A moment or two passed before Bumblebee heard the silent "ding", as Jazz perked up suddenly, grin appearing on his faceplate.

"Yo, 'Bee!" Jazz held out his arms, pulling Bumblebee into a rather awkward positioned nookie. "Been centuries since I las' seen ya! And ya _grew_!" He released the golden mech, allowing him to stand up again, visor-ed optics shifted up, and he tilted his head slightly in an attempt to not break optic contact as Bumblebee stood straight. He chuckled.

"Ya grew _a lot_."

Jazz pursed his lips thoughtful, visor glinting. Bumblebee tilted his head, optics narrowing suspiciously, he slid away from the mech slightly. "What's with that look?" He inquired, and grew even more suspicious when the ninjabot smirked. "Nothing~" Jazz sing-songed, tilted his head to the right, as he folded his hands behind his back. With a quirk of the optic ridge, Bumblebee shifted to stare at the door. They stood in silence for a few moments, aside from the occasional sound of shifting and the hum of the elevator.

Jazz looked at him, Bumblebee pretended not to notice. The white mech pursed his lips again, and leaned ever-so-slightly towards him, he slowly reached out his left hand, and poked Bumblebee's silver elbow joint. Bumblebee flinched slightly, Jazz stifled his giggles. Bumblebee went to glare at him...

And found Jazz standing a good distance away, hands tucked behind his back, staring at the door with all-do seriousness.

Bumblebee gave him an unamused stare for a moment, then went back to staring at the door.

He twitched again when he felt that familiar feeling of someone poking him in the elbow.

So again he turned, and glared at Jazz who stood innocently on the other side of the Elevator, poker-faced as he stared at the door. Arms behind his back. Bumblebee shifted his view to the door. He glared, optics half shuttered and "horns" folded back half way. His view shot to glare at Jazz when the mech began to loose control over his giggle stifling.

Jazz was looking at him, hands over his mouth to try and keep from being heard, his visor flashed when Bumblebee caught him.

"What's do funny?" Jazz tried harder to stifle his giggling, which grew harder when Bumblebee spoke in that deep, threatening tone. "What?" Bumblebee repeated, and Jazz fell against the wall, breaking into giggles. Bumblebee - optics wide - took a step back when Jazz pointed to hims suddenly. His optics locked with the digit, face twisted in a confused expression, horns standing straight on his head. Jazz barley managed to talk.

"Y-you're too freakin' adorable, mech! Even all grown up!" He managed between giggles. "You try a-and act so serious but you're just too cute!" Bumblebee looked completely at a loss, and Jazz just stifled his giggles, making a coughing sound as the door dinged, and swung open. Alerting the two to the fact they had reached their destination. In a spark-beat, Jazz was out the door and running down the hall opposite of where Bumblebee would have to go. The ninjabot waved. "You're horns!" He grinned. "They make you look like a kitten!" And he disappeared around the corner.

Bumblebee made a face, mixed between irritated and confused, and spun around to exit the ground level and make his way to where he needed to be.

His optics narrowed, horns falling flat against his helm as he stalked down the halls.

"I do _not_ look like a kitten." He growled, as he made his way.

He made a mental note to avoid Jazz, the mech seemed a bit too happy about his new "flexible" horns.

* * *

**Authors Notes: **..I don't like this chapter. I barley took time on it and I give myself about a moment more before I fall asleep at the computer. Mrr.

Bumblebee's like a _kitten_. At least, he looks kinda like one. And acts kinda like one.

You know you want to just randomly hug him 'cause he's so darn cute, too.

Only Jazz can call someone cute without it meaning something else other than stating they are, in fact, _cute_.

'Cept maybe Optimus...

...Nah...

He's the only mech who can sound completely serious and bad-ass when saying "I'll bring you back a snowball" though...

Hehehee, Transformers Prime Quote...

Hehehee

*falls asleep*

**Disclaimer: **Transformers does not belong to me, nor do any of it's Characters.


	6. Sweet Little Bumblebee

After a short drive through the rebuilt Cybertron city - which had formerly been Iacon...possibly. Was now renamed something else Bumblebee didn't bother to remember. Or care about, really. Wasn't his home, and he's only been away from Cybertron for...what...a hundred years or so? The more he thought about it, the more he felt guilty for leaving everyone hanging like that. Especially Sari...who he knew was no longer around, even without being told so. Which anyone had yet to do, by the way. It didn't matter, he'd had this nagging feeling in his spark for a long time that something dear to him was lost. Maybe she was happy, somewhere in an afterlife? Or even reborn? Who knows...

"~Sweet little Bumble bee, more than just a fantasy~"

The gold and black mech paused mid step, violet optics snapping around to lock onto the source of that _dreadful _song. His optics narrowed at the red mech swaying back and forth with a grin plastered on his face, playing that Earth track so loud it echoed through the city streets. The visor-ed mech waved cheerily at him, and Bumblebee scowled. Well, at least someone recognized him without him saying or doing something first. He started walking again.

"Blaster, shut off that racket!" Bumblebee snickered at the sound of old Kup scolding his students, the music turned down a bit, but didn't cease playing. Some of the crowd had taken up humming with it, ignoring it, some even stopping and staring at Blaster. Bumblebee huffed, picked up his pace, and marched straight for the tallest building in view. And hoped it was where he needed to be...

Because honestly he had no idea where he was.

He walked into the building, door sliding quickly aside to allow him access, without thought or hesitation he went straight up to the reception desk where a bright blue femme sat, doodling on her data-pad with a bored yet slightly amused expression on her faceplate. It seemed to be directed at whatever she seemed to be drawing. Bumblebee walked over, and leaned over the counter, looking down at the data-pad without gaining the attention of the femme using it. He stared at the various lines of what appeared to be stick figures of some sort. Tilting his head to the left, then the right, he found he couldn't quite make out what it was.

"What'cha drawing there?"

The femme jumped with a shriek, nearly falling out of her chair, bright blue optics locked with bemused violet. "Y-you startled me!" She took an intake, placing a hand over where her spark would be. Shaking her head, she smiled. "And I'm not drawing anything, just doodling." She took a glance down at her data-pad, and frowned. "Badly." Bumblebee looked down at it, and shrugged. "Yeah. Ya just need practice is all. I'm here to see the Chief of Intel. Got a message from him a while back requesting me "immediate attention"." He looked interestingly around the room. He was late replying to that note by...a year. Or two. Maybe three. He chose to ignore it at first, sense he didn't know who it was from. It was the only one able to reach him, so he didn't delete it.

He had planned on reading it later.

He finally did about a week ago. Set out for Cybertron to see what they wanted. He could only hope they wouldn't charge him for being late. The femme smiled, and asked for his designation. She then entered it into the computer, and did something else before telling him to hold. It was only a moment later that his personal comm.-link crackled to life.

A very angry sounding voice came over.

::Bumblebee! A few _centuries _late to the appointment, aren't you?:: Bumblebee made a sheepish expression, even though the only able to see it was the Secretary, who just gave him an understanding look before going back to her doodling.

"'Cliff! Ol' buddy! How did you find this frequency? No one has it yet..." Bumblebee responded, shuffling his pedes nervously. ::Well obviously _I _do.:: Cliffjumper snapped over the comm. Bumblebee grinned. "Anyway...Better late than never, right? What did you want to see me for, o' Commander Smart Aft." He glanced at the Secretary, who looked mortified at his way of speaking with her Boss. He shot her a sly grin, and she quickly turned back to her data-pad.

::I'm going to kill you, Bumblebee. I'm going to kill you. But first, Mr. Bounty Hunter, I would like to if you happen to know where our missing Agent went.::

A pause, neither end spoke, moved, or so much as blinked. The Secretary shuffled out of the room after catching sight of Bumblebee's grim expression, mumbling something about break. Bumblebee pulled out a grin. "I have no clue what you're talking about, Cliff'." He got a chuckle void of amusement from the older mech at that. ::I see you not longer wear our Autobot insignia. Neutral now?:: The accusing tone in his voice was somewhat offending, Bumblebee glared at the wall.

"The war's over. I see no reason to keep factions." He shifted to turn, and sat on the edge of the Secretary's desk. "So yes, I'm a neutral now. What of it?" Silence hung in the air for a moment, a stiff, uncomfortable silence. Cliffjumper chuckled again. ::It means quite a bit. Such as no loyalty. An Agent went missing a long time ago, and it just so happens the last mech he was seen with went by "Goldbug". After a little research...let's just say I know almost everything you did off planet. Exploring, gambling, racing, you name it. Heard you were quite popular with mechs and femmes alike. But had an accident during one of the more...violent races.:: Optics narrowed, and Bumblebee had taken up glaring holes into the floor. Cliffjumper went silent for a moment.

::You died, Bumblebee. And was "Revived" by some Quintesson outcasts. I know what you did afterwords, you have to know, if I want information I can, and _will _get it. You may have changed your Designation back, and changed your color scheme. But I still know what you _did._:: The comm. crackled, and Bumblebee stood, clenching his hands into tight fists.

::So, _Goldbug,_ where is my _Agent_?:: Bumblebee opened his mouth to respond, Cliffjumper cut him off. ::Did you sell him to Decepticos? Quintessons? Offline him? Or, I know, did you strip him of his upgrades and leave him to rust like that _other _Hunter gone bad, _Lockdown, _would do?:: Bumblebee glared, vented a sigh, and stood straight. He smirked, narrowing his optics as he stared at a camera on the far wall.

"Sorry, 'Jumper. I haven't a clue what you're talking about. Now, excuse me, I have a date with a ninja."

::Don't play dumb, Gol-::

Bumblebee cut the comm., blocked it, and strode out the door. Optics half-shuttered as he glared his way through the crowd, making his way back to the building he'd come from. He growled, he had known his was a bad idea from the start, shouldn't have bothered. His glare faltered when he walked past Blaster, who smiled, still playing that irritating Earth song. He turned it up when Bumblebee walked past, waving happily to the golden mech. Bumblebee waved back, smiling weakly. Too bad all Blaster could do was play songs, ever sense his vocalizor was ripped out by 'Cons. It could be replaced but it would hurt, and wouldn't be _his _voice. The red mech refused time and time again. Many missed talking with him, Blaster was a fun mech to be around. And had an _amazing _singing voice before it was stolen from him...That song everyone could do without though...

_Goldbug._

"The name's Bumblebee, Cliff'..." He muttered to himself, turning to watch where he walked. Lightly shoving his way through the crowd.

He paused in his step little ways and looked around, frowning and confused, he scratched absently at the back of his helm.

"...Am I even heading in the right direction...?"

* * *

**Authors Notes: **I have a headache. I also have a Soundwave Generations Action Figure. And a Red Alert Generations Action figure! Red Alert's head should be red...not black darnit!

Oooh, poorly written suspense! Bumblebee needs a map. When you're gone for a few hundred years from a planet that is being re-built, the first thing you should do is _buy a map_.

Ha-ha, Bumblebee, careful how you word things. Cliff' is the freakin' head of Intel, they probably spread rumors out of sheer boredom. You just gave them a gossip topic.

**Disclaimer: **Transformers does not belong to me, nor do any of it's Characters.


	7. Red 'N' Yellow

Hours and hours had passed with Bumblebee wondering - somewhat aimlessly - through Iacon. Maybe. He still hadn't decided if it was or not. He had wondered in circles for the first..hour or so. He knew because he kept running into Blaster. In fact, he had five times. Finally he asked Blast for directions. The red clad mech gave him a shrug, and Bumblebee figured it meant he didn't know. Maybe he hadn't been here long either. Bumblebee didn't know. Couldn't exactly _ask_ either. He'd get not reply. No verbal reply, anyway. And he didn't want to wait forever trying to riddle out the various songs the mech would play to try and form a sentence.

He had contemplated transforming and just driving around until he met someone mildly familiar. But quite marked the idea off, he'd gotten enough stares of confused, disgust, or fear last time he transformed. He didn't plan on doing so again. Not with his mismatched build. He looked like some sort of...franken-car when in his alt-mode. He just got back to Cybertron, he didn't need rumors spreading because of a makeshift alt. So he walked, and walked, but at least he wasn't running in circles anymore.

Of course now he was somewhere unfamiliar with no familiar faces whatsoever.

"FFFF-" He glared at the road as he walked, "horns" folded so far back you could barley see them unless he bent forward, pedes stomping the ground roughly as he walked, kicking up Primus-knows-what. It formed dust. But he was more than sure this place had no _dirt_. He ignored it in favor of not finding out what he way. Or fear. Either way worked. His arms straight, tight as his side and hands balled into tight fists as he stalked down the streets and alleyways. Hopelessly lost.

On his own Planet.

He contemplated someone for help. Until he realized he didn't really...have anyone's comm. frequency anymore. Unless his team kept their old frequencies. But he really, really didn't want to call on any of his team members. He pouted, searching through his memory banks for someone who might still have the same frequency, not a teammate, who would...possibly understand him getting lost. And not tease him about it. With a huff, he tossed the idea in the trash. He didn't know anyone, except maybe Jazz. And Jazz wouldn't let him live it down.

Even though it was originally Jazz he was...going to...find. Bumblebee paused mid-step, someone cursed and swing around him, having been walking behind him. He thought, processing data and forming ideas in his processor. He stepped out of the "Traffic" and into an alleyway. With a smirk, he nodded to himself, and activated his comm. With crossed fingers, he tried Jazz's frequency. All he got for the first few minutes was the irritatingly familiar sound of white static, before the line crackled and Jazz's face popped into Bumblebee's view, making the mech startle a bit.

Jazz just grinned. "'Ey there, my not-so-lil 'Bee!" The cyber-ninja greeted, waving over the screen at the Golden mech. Violet optics narrowed into a glare at the mech, before Bumblebee huffed. "I was going to pay you a visit, but I think someone gave me the wrong directions." Bumblebee spoke, smiling easily at the mech. Jazz stared, thoughtful, for a moment. Before shrugging and grinning. "I suppose I could send you a map!" He smiled back, and Bumblebee grinned. "That'd be awesome!" Jazz nodded. "Hold on just a sec~" Jazz sing-songed, as he began running through files for a map to send to the golden mech.

A moment a silence passed, Bumblebee shifted, felling a bit insecure in the alley he currently occupied. Alone. He decided to try and spark a conversation while they waited.

"So...uhm...if Cliff' thinks we're dating, it isn't my fault." Jazz paused in whatever he was doing to look up at Bumblebee, expression a bit unreadable thanks to the visor. But the corners of his lips twitched upward the slightest bit, enough for Bumblebee to _know _the ninja was trying to keep from laughing. "If Sentinel or the Twins think we are, it's not my fault either." Jazz winked, and Bumblebee gave him a look mixed between confused and horrified. Jazz made a triumphant "ah-ha" and gave Bumblebee a thumbs up.

"Ya should be getting it any-" Bumblebee nearly jumped when suddenly something internally beeped. He checked and found he now had access of a map of the town. "-minute now!" Jazz grinned that big, cheesy grin of his. Bumblebee smirked, and started walking in the right - he hoped - direction towards where Jazz was currently located. He contemplated ending the call and concentrating on walking but...he really didn't want to be alone in this...empty, eerie ally. So...at least until he was in broad daylight again, he could spare a conversation with the ninja.

Bumblebee said the first thing that came to mind without thinking about it first. "So Jazz, bonded yet?" The moment he heard his own words, he mentally berated himself for it. Jazz chuckled. "Naw, mech. Haven't quite found..._the one_, yet. You?" He gave Bumblebee a playful grin, and the violet-eyed mech mock-glared at him for it. "No. I've been off Cybertron for...uhm...I don't even know how long. Haven't really met anyone...my type...out in space. Unless you count worms." He shuttered, shaking his head. "_Acid spitting _worms." He rubbed at his upper right arm at the memory of the ugly, orange-ish red creatures. And again, shook his head.

Jazz gave him a sympathetic look for a second, before grinning. "Ah, so yer a free mech then, eh?" The moment those words left the older mechs mouth, Bumblebee was giving him as suspicious a glare as feature-ly possible for a giant robot, and Jazz laughed at it. "What's with the look? I was going to tell you I might know a few femmes - or mechs, if ya swing that way - who wouldn't mind givin' a good lookin' mech like you a chance." He gave Bumblebee a wink, Bumblebee said nothing, just continued glaring. Jazz continued. "I'm sure you could probably pick up anyone ya want, though. What with your _charm_." His grin spread wider as Bumblebee have him a rather crude, yet familiar, human hand gesture.

Jazz started giggling at that point.

"Chill, not-so-lil 'Bee! I'm just teasin'!" He held up his hands in mock-surrender, and Bumblebee vented a sigh. He raised an optic ridge. "Why do you keep calling me "not-so-little 'Bee"?" He inquired, glancing from the screen a brief moment to check his map and location. "Well, I can't go around callin' ya "Lil' 'Bee" anymore, you're taller than me." Jazz made a pout, before going back to his grin. "Which is so wrong, by th' way. I coulda sworn you were a minibot." He got a glare for that, and just help up his hands again. Bumblebee smiled slightly, and snickered.

"Fine, fine. I get your point, I was small. But..." Bumblebee got the smuggest smirk on his faceplate. "I'm taller than _all of you _now." Jazz stared, and Bumblebe pursed his lips. "Except Optimus. He's...about an inch or so taller than me." Jazz snickered before laughing, Bumblebee could help but grin in response. Jazz's laughter died, abruptly, and Bumblebee gave him a curious look. "Jazz?" The mechs visor flashed, and he spoke. No words came out. Bumblebee looked confused, either the sound cut or Jazz was trying to play him.

Bumblebee narrowed his optics at the mech, staring at his lips as he mouthed something again.

We watched the movements, and processed what they would sound to.

Behind. Look. Behind.

Bumblebee raised an optic ridge, but looked over his shoulder nonetheless. Just in time to catch sight of a large, black hand reaching for him. With a hiss - automatic and something he didn't doubt Jazz would tease him for later - Bumblebee slid his right foot around, his left foot staying still, and spun to face the mech, skidding his right foot back once turned before steadying, leaning back and out of the range of the strangers reach. His violet optics narrowed dangerously, and he glared at the red clad stranger who stared at him, bemused.

The mech stood about his height, a mix of colors red, gray, and black. A land mech, a car it seemed. His chest plate obviously the hood of the vehicle, dark red. His shoulder guards black, upper arm gray, lower arms red, hands black. His chest plate cut off to show some of his gray stomach before reaching his hips, black crotch-plate. His uppers legs gray, knee-pads black, lower legs red, pedes black. His face gray, horned helm black.

Dark blue optics glared back. The mech was bulky, obviously his alt wasn't a Cybertronian alt. Far too..."blocky" for that.

Bumblebee grinned at the mech. Who grinned right back. Jazz started cackling over the line.

"Heya Sides'!" Jazz sing-songed, the mech gave him a _huge _grin. "Yo Jazz! Heya 'Bee!" Before Bumblebee could respond, he was having his faceplate crushed against a red chest plate, bent over, an arm around his back and across his chest, holding him in that position. The other arm bent infront of his face, hand balled into a fist, the mech lightly play-punched Bumblebee in the face, before giving him a "noogie", Bumblebee squirmed. Why did everyone _insist _on giving him noogies today?

"Long time no see!" Bumblebee smiled at his "attackers" words. "Sorry, Sideswipe! It's good to see you! Nowlemmego!" Bumblebee twisted, reaching up and gripping the hand pressed against his helm, he pushed it away, and bent his knees - effectively dropping out of his friends grip. Sideswipe blinked, and laughed. "Man, you've grown! Dangit, Jazz, what happened to our lil' 'Bee?" Bumblebee stood up, rubbing his helm. "You can't say anything. Last I seen you...you weren't the same size as Optimus." A pause.

"Mech, I haven't ever even _met _Optimus." Sideswipe grinned, and chuckled. Bumblebee pouted. Jazz snickered over the open comm.

Sidesiwpe glared at the screen. "And you!" He pointed to the mini-hologram of Jazz. "How _dare you _blow _my _cover!" It probably would have been somewhat intimidating, the way Sideswipe said that, if the mech wasn't smiling. Jazz chuckled. "Our lil' Bee's grown up. He might have offlined ya if I hadn't warned him!" Bumblebee giggled, and Sideswipe huffed indignantly. Bumblebee decided to end the war before it started. "So, where's Sunny?"

"Ohh~ Somewhere~" Sideswipe grinned. "I'm sure Sunshine will show up soon~" Bumblebee and Jazz almost instantly caught on. Both grinned. "Aw, is our little Sunflower being shy~?" Jazz cooed, stiffing his snickering as best he could. Bumblebee just snickered. Sideswipe sighed, and shook his head. "Come on, Sunny. Hiding isn't doing ya any good!" The red mech called, grinning wider - if it's even possible at this point. With a grumble, the yellow mech finally stepped from his hiding place and stalked over to them.

Bumblebee all but pounced the mech, which earned a rather manly (not) short scream from the slightly larger mech. Sideswipe pouted. "Aw! That's not fair! How come Sunny get's a hug? You didn't hug me! ...Sunny doesn't let me hug him, either! Why don't I ever get hugs?" Jazz, who had been laughing up to this point, look to Sideswipe. "Aw, poor Sideswipe. I'd hug ya if I were there! ...And he didn't give me a hug either. 'BEE! YA OWE ME A HUG!" There was no need to yell that, especially sense his voice was _quite literally _next to Bumblebee's audio receptors. It earned a harsh twitch from the golden mech.

The twitch was enough to prompt the golden twin to shove Bumblebee off. He stood up, dusted himself, and glared at his brother who stood innocently quite a few feet away.

"I'm going to kill you _all _if _any _of you ever call me _any _of those nicknames again." He warned, optics narrowed. Bumblebee stood up, quickly, and looked as innocent as possible for a mech his age as he said; "Sure thing, Sunshine!" He ducked under the half-hearted assault from the mech for the name. He smiled at the golden mech, who half-glared in return. "I haven't seen the two of you in ages!" He only spared Sideswipe a glance as the red warrior shuffled away from them slightly, beyond his range of vision. "That's probably because - as I hear it - you've been _missing _for _ages_." The golden yellow mech teased, crossing his arms over his chassis as he smiled.

Bumblebee pouted. "Isn't my fault." Sunstreaker raised an optic ridge at that, optics narrowing slightly. "What do you mean?" He inquired, tilting his head slightly to the right. Bumblebee looked at him, face devoid of emotion for a moment, before grinning. "Nothing!" He waved a finger at the yellow twin. His prize for such bold actions towards one who would normally strangle an innocent bystander for directions was rewarded with a scowl. With a cheesy grin, Bumblebee spun around, facing his back to Sunstreaker, and coming face-to-face with Sideswipe - who had been attempting to sneak up on him.

Probably to hug him Or something else the mech was known for doing, Bumblebee decided not to think about it.

"Nice try~" He waved a finger at Sideswipe, the same way he had Sunstreaker, and smiled innocently. Sideswipe mocked his innocent smile as he folded his arms behind his back. "YOU GUYS HAVEN'T FORGOTTEN ABOUT ME RIGHT?" Bumblebee screamed, indignantly, and all-but jumped into Sideswipe. The red-clad mech caught him easily, and steadied him on the ground again, smiling as he wrapped his arms around the smaller golden mech and looked to the static image of a grinning Jazz. Bumblebee could practically feel his spark stall in his chassis momentarily from the startle, he glared at the screen, and proceeded to shove Sideswipe off. Or...at least..._try _to shove him off.

The mech had quite a grip, arms snaked around Bumblebee's lower back and holding him where he was. Bumblebee squirmed, glared at Jazz, and reached for Sunstreaker. "Help!" He flailed his arms, the yellow mech smirked, before scowling. "Quit molesting 'Bee, Sides'. I'm sure he has enough random mechs and femmes doing it as it is." Bumblebee sputtered indignation as Sideswipe pouted, but relented and let the mech go. Before practically diving over him and taking Sunstreaker as a replacement. Sunstreaker cursed as they fell to the ground in a tangle of red and yellow.

"I got a 'Bee hug I should get a Sunny hug too!"

"Ten seconds to let go before I _gut _you"

Sideswipe grinned. "But Sunny, we don't have "guts"!" The red twin stated. Sunstreaker growled.

"Ten seconds up."

"It hasn't been ten seconds ye-"

Sunstreaker kicked Sideswipe off and pounced him upon sitting up, Bumblebee stared at the two rolling around, wrestling on the ground. Before smirked. "Well, uhm, bye then." He turned and strode out of the alleyway, ignoring the two and the fact neither noticed him speak or leave. "Those two're crazy." Jazz mumbled, staring over Bumblebee's shoulder at what he could see of the two warrior mechs before they vanished behind a building when Bumblebee turned. "I know. And just think!" He threw his arms up in the air. "I _grew up _with them! And they were waaay worse when we were younger. _Trust me_." Jazz grinned as Bumblebee shook his head, smile in place.

"...What were they doin' in a creepy alleyway, anyway?"

"Probably stalking me."

"Ah."

* * *

**Authors Notes:**Sorry it took me so long to update, is being glitchy and wouldn't let me update _any_ of my stories!

This chapters kinda rushy jumpy. I dunno. The whole Sideswipe Sunstreaker thing will be explained in later chapters. Probably...

Meanwhile, anyone noticed that everyone keeps inadvertently hitting on Bumblebee? Except maybe Jazz. Jazz does everything he does on purpose. You know he does. But nah, he's just messing with Bumblebee.

...Probably...

I'm gonna go ta bed now.

*falls asleep*

**Disclaimer: **Transformers does not belong to me, nor do any of it's Characters.


	8. Roommate

Once out of the Alleyway, Jazz and Bumblebee ended their comm. Jazz had a habit of being distracting, Bumblebee had a habit of being easily distracted. After the poor, golden mech walked in one too many walls, nearly rattling his equilibrium chip loose, they both agreed it would be best to let their conversations wait until _after _Bumblebee got to Jazz's..."house". So to speak. Making a face of both irritation and boredom, Bumblebee continued making his way through the now crowded streets of...what he _still _figured is (or was) Iacon. He hadn't quite bothered to ask, and it didn't really say on the map he'd received from Jazz. In fact, the map didn't say much of anything. Really vague. It just had the shortest, hopefully _safest_ way to Jazz's quarters marked.

He rubbed absently at a dent on the side of his helm he'd received from bumping into some bulky mech about twice his size. Whom he would swear to everyone who asked was a Decepticon. He hadn't quite had time to get a name when the mech unceremoniously punch-shoved him out of the way and stomped off. Seems being taller (or roughly the same size) as Optimus Prime _himself_, still doesn't make him one of the tallest mechs around. Despite having been taller than almost everyone short of that certain, dark green mech and the twins. But then again, few mechs are taller than the twins. But surely that mech was.

Or to whom it may concern, he would be.

Bumblebee kept it in mind to avoid bumping into too many mechs or femmes after that. He'd rather not get into a fight, get another dent, or get...well...he'd rather avoid any _embarrassing _damage. Especially sense it would likely all be noticed by Jazz, who would offer to repair it. And that probably wouldn't go any better than the _last _time Jazz offered to repair him after he was injured. Just the thought of it made Bumblebee's metallic skin crawl.

That was not a pleasant experience. May Jazz never become a medic.

Ever.

With a glance up, violet optics widened slightly at the sheer _size _of the building before him. Before he could process a single comment on the place, the door slung open and Jazz practically _pranced _out and over to him, smile ever present as he slung a casual arm over Bumblebee's shoulder, and snapped the jaw he hadn't even realized was open, shut. "Soo, what'cha think, my not-so-lil' 'Bee?" He inquired, looking up at the three story building himself. With a blink of the optics, the golden mech turned to star at him.

"You do _not _live there, all by yourself. Please tell me that's some sort of..._apartment _or something." Jazz's grin could probably split his face in half, were it physically possible to do so grinning. "Nah, I live here. It's a "house". Big, I won't deny that. It was kinda..._given _to me. For my service during the war...or something. I don't know, really." He grew a thoughtful expression on his face, staring at the building for a moment. He tilted to look at Bumblebee again, smirking. "Why? Need a place ta stay?" He nudged the carbot.

Bumblebee stared at the house again. "No- Well, actually...yes. Probably. I just didn't really think about it until now." He looked to Jazz for a moment, then back to the house, and frowned. "Hey! I served in the War and _I _didn't get some sort of...of.." He threw his hands forward gesturing towards the house. "_Mansion_!" He decided, glaring back at Jazz, who shrugged. "Privileges of the Elite Guard then?" He smirked, nudging the moody mech. "You could always stay with me though. House is big, mostly empty aside from sound systems and various...weapons. And a training room. I could use a roommate!" Another nudge, the ninjabot put on his best smile. "C'mon, please? It'd be fun! I even have a few of those Earth games ya rigged up for us still! I have _quite _a few games in there just _collecting _dust because I have _no one to play with_~" Bumblebee stared at him, and he gave his best Swindle-impression. Smiling in a way that made Bumblebee want to trust, and shoot him, all at the same time.

He decided to go with the first option. "Fine." He nudged the ninja back as the black and white mech cheered. "But I want access to your training room, too. I have a few..._techniques _I need to practice." Jazz just grinned. "No worries, my mech! I'll even train with ya when ya need an opponent!" It was Bumblebee's turn to smirk, he gave Jazz a little playful shove before starting to walk towards the house, Jazz fallowing suit. "Just don't get _too _upset when I wipe the floor with you, okay?" The golden mech grinned.

Jazz looked insulted, and grinned. "Oh, mech, it's _on _now!" He gave Bumblebee a playful shove back, before sprinting to the house. Bumblebee sputtered, and took off after him. Grinning and laughing like a couple of kids as they raced each-other to the door, shoving, attempting to trip, and distracting each-other all the way there.

"By the way, 'Bee. What happened to your head?"

* * *

**Authors Notes: **I forgot to upload this. I wrote this about a few days after the last Chapter, this Chapter kind of...disinterested me. So it's not great. Anything but. And it's very short. Sorry about that, next chapter makes up for it! Hopefully. Who knows? I'll get to writing on it ASAP!

Sorry again for the late updates, was being a little buggy, but it's all working now! I guess they fixed it! ^^

**Disclaimer: **Transformers does not belong to me, nor do any of it's Characters.


	9. The Calm Before

"So...yes? No? How long are ya gonna leave me hangin', mech?"

Bumblebee paused his game, optics narrowing slightly as he slowly turned his helm to look at the mech leaning over the back of the "couch", looking at him with a visor full of excitement. A huge grin on his faceplate. Bumblebee have him an utterly unamused stare, before turning back to his game. "Jazz," He started slowly, paying careful attention to his Character on the screen. "When I mentioned wanting access to your Training Room-" He tilted to the side a bit, barley dodging a shot from an iron-clad Soldier. "-I didn't mean _right now_. I just got back from a very, very long _trip_. Which - just so you know - included quite a _bit _of fighting. I want a break from bruising my knuckles against hard skulls, 'kay?" He leaned to the left as he now crouched, and well hidden character leaned out from behind a tree, aiming his rifle carefully, steady as a Solider pacing back and forth around a campfire. As the Soldier began to sing again - horribly off-key - Bumblebee took the shot and the Solider fell limp to the ground.

"Aw.." Jazz pouted, keeping the pathetic expression even as he easily propped his right hand on the couch, jumping the rest of his weight over, balancing on that hand, and flopping down beside his Golden roommate on the couch. His visor-ed optics locked on the game for a moment, he tilted his head ever so slightly as Bumblebee _sawed a man in half_. He raised an optic ridge, before looking to Bumblebee. "What are you evem _playing?_" He inquired, Bumblebee shrugged. "Some Army game, with monsters, title was scratched out." He tilted to the right - closer to Jazz - and mumbled something as a his Soldier fell to the ground, a mutated creature resembling a black scorpion pinning his Character down, tail trying and failing to impale the mane _in the face_. Bumblebee frantically hit keys to dodge the tail, and shove the creature off before it's rows of sharp teeth could bite his head off.

Bumblebee cursed lightly as he missed a key, and the creatures tail caught the mans head, the man let out an agonizing scream as the screen went red, having been splattered by blood. The screen faded out and the sound of _crunching _could be heard before it asked him whether he wanted to Restart, or Quit. He clicked restart, and the game started at a point only a few feet from where the Scorpion creature had attacked him. Jazz tilted his head curiously.

"So, where _were_ you...exactly?" The black and white mech asked, looking from the gore to his companion. Bumblebee shrugged, distracted. "Here. There. Probably everywhere. In case you haven't notice...my sense of Direction SUCKS!" He screamed the last part as a large, dog-like creature came out of nowhere, attacking his man before disappearing again. With a pause, Bumblebee narrowed his optics and slowly, warily had his character start moving again. The forest-like terrain around him gave off a sound similar to rustling leaves, and suddenly blood splattered over the screen as the creature appeared again - for a split second, long enough to attack the man, taking nearly half his remaining life - and disappearing again.

Jazz stared, Bumblebee growled, before smirking. He drew up a screen, and exchanged his rifle for a shot gun, a scatter shot. He slowly started walking again, focused entirely on the game. The moment the bushes rustled again, Bumblebee hit a key that made his man jump back. The creature, having missing the man, stopping in the path, turned, and crouched into a pouncing position. Growling. Red eyes giving off a faint glow as it many large, twisted canines glistened red with the glow. The creature stood about three fourths of the mans height, and snarled loudly before lunging forward suddenly.

Jazz made a distressed squeaking sound at the sudden movement. Bumblebee smirked, and shot his gun.

The creature didn't so much as _flinch_, despite the bright green blood that splatted on the plants, ground, and man as the shot hit the target dead-on. The creature tackled him, and the man shoved his gun in it's mouth, holding it's head away with the weapon to prevent it from - like the Scorpion - biting off his head. It snarled, twisted, and nearly jerked the gun from the mans hands multiple times. Bumblebee hit keys at random, not knowing what to do. Eventually, the man kicked the creature, and managed to shove the creature back.

Suddenly it vanished, the rustle of leaves sounded as it ran into the trees yet again.

Jazz stared for a moment, as Bumblebee started walking. He didn't get attacked by the creature again after that.

"So..." Jazz said distractedly, before shaking his head and looking to Bumblebee. "Did you ever stop by Earth on you little "space adventure"?" Bumblebee shrugged, most of his attention still on the game. "A few times. Had to get my new Alt-mode from somewhere, right? Too bad all my mismatched parts make it look like slag." He shifted back, and pulled his legs up onto the couch, crossing him "Indian style" and leaning forward over them. "Wasn't a very good experience, though. I swear if I had a cred for every time I got shot in the face by some wayward police bot I'd be the richest mech on all of Cybertron and **beyond**." He decided his new position didn't work, and unfolded his legs, stretching them out over the floor as far as he could, slouching so far Jazz thought he may very well slide off. He didn't, and seemed content. Jazz made no comment.

"Met some kid...uhm...Raz. Raf. Rad. Something like that." He made a mumbling sound, back on the battlefield, his Character jumped behind an old, half destroyed building to use as a bomb shelter of some sort. How it worked? Silly video games. "Anyway, get this...he's Fanzone's kid! Well...Grand-kid. Great...great...a lot of greats. You remember, the grumpy cop? Human version of Ratchet? Hates machines. Small. So-so. You know, right?" Bumblebee asked, distracted still. Jazz nodded, realized Bumblebee hadn't seen, and spoke a soft "yup" instead. Bumblebee nodded. "Well anyway, the kid is _exactly like him_. He doesn't _know _who his Gramps was, exactly. Only stories he's read about him in their _family history_. Either way, he said he knew me. And made me take him _home_. Showed me this...ancient picture of us all. You, Bossbot, Bulky, Prowl, the Jettwins, Ratchet, Sari, Ultra Magnus, and I think Wreck-Gar was in the background..._somewhere_." He paused his game for a moment, twirling his wrist around. Jazz heard something pop.

"I don't know where Sentinel was..." He grew thoughtful for a moment, then shrugged. "Those three humans...the President, some women, and...someone else. Along with Fanzone were also there. I think Fanzone was yelling at you...or me. We both looked guilty about _something_. Don't know _what_." Bumblebee put the controller down and flopped back on the couch, nearly sliding off in the process. "I don't remember it. Anyways...the place isn't anything like we left it. Apparently it's been..._forever _since anyone has been there. They had..._slightly Sentient _machines there now. It's been a while but..." Bumblebee made a slightly irritated, slightly depressed face.

"What?"

"Well..." The golden mech vented a sigh. "It's been a while since I've actually...landed there. After that, I sort of only flew over a few times but...last time the planet...looked..." A small shrug. "Dead. It's red now, like that other planet...Mars? Except with a bit more...black. And a darker red." Bumblebee looked to the screen, which he had paused in the middle of getting shot. Blood was splattered across his view. He motioned towards it. "It's look as if someone flooded the planet with...blood. And set parts of that blood on fire, leaving black scorch marks everywhere." He shrugged. "I doubt that's what _happened_, I didn't get close. It looked pretty bad. It might not have even been Earth...maybe I was lost..." Another shrug.

Jazz frowned at him. Opened his mouth, thought twice, closed it again. A few moments of silence passed.

"...Did I also mention I got this _huge _scar from where I got bit in the _aft _by a Sharkticon?" Jazz shot up, stared at him, and his frowned twisted, he stalled his systems momentarily to keep from laughing. Bumblebee just grinned. He nudged the ninja, who made a squeaking sound. "So...how about that spar then? Maybe it will take our minds off the depression." Jazz grinned, jumped up, and was already making his way down the hall, Bumblebee quickly fallowed, a smile on his faceplate.

"...So can I see it?"

"Ha-ha, no."

"Damn."

* * *

**Authors Notes: **Sorry for another "dud" Chapter. Next involved sparring! Maybe.

Yeah yeah, Fanzone has a great, great, great, great Grandchild named _Rad_. Who acted just like him. Of course, that was years ago when 'Bee met him. And what of Earth? We will find out in later Chapters, I assure you~

How many Mysteries does our beloved Bumbler have up his sleeve (subspace?)? We shall find out~ Maybe. He's a tricky one, after all. ;D

**Disclaimer: **Transformers does not belong to me, nor do any of it's Characters.


	10. Match 01

Upon entering the Training Room, Bumblebee's first reaction was to compliment Jazz with a simply two words of; "Nice Dojo." Jazz paused from his way towards the far wall of the room, opposite of the door, to send a smirk in the golden mechs direction. "I aim ta please! I'm surprised, yet not surprised, that you know it's called a "Dojo"." The ninja chuckled, as he turned back to what he was doing, a smirk ever present. "Prowl tell ya about Dojo, or...?"

"Television." Bumblebee replied, thoughtlessly poking at various weapons hanging from the walls. On dimly lit up as his fingers slid over the top, but the glow faded out when he removed his hand. He blinked at it, smiling softly, before turning to look at Jazz, hands tucked behind his back. "So, are we fighting with weapons or do you want to do some hand-to-hand combat?" He inquired innocently, walking around the room, his footsteps giving off the "clank" as usual. The sound echoed off the probably soundproof walls.

"I was thinking..." Jazz turned, twirling a couple of nunchucks around in each hand, a grin plastered over his face. "That maybe I could use these ol' things. Haven't in a while. Probably be kinda rusty." He held on between his index finger and his thumb, extending his index finger and waving it at Bumblebee, he shook his head with an amused grin. "We can't have that now, can we?" Jazz started walking to the center of the large room, Bumblebee fallowed suit until they stood face-to-face in the center of the practice ring.

"You can choose any weapon of choice." Jazz offered, waving a hand around the room. Bumblebee shook his head. "No thanks, I have one of my own." He winked, and took a few steps back. Jazz did as well, and tilted his head. "Oh?" Curious. He waited for Bumblebee to draw a weapon from subspace, but the golden mech never did so. He just stood there, relaxed, staring at Jazz as he stared back.

"Am I going to get to see this weapon?" The ninja teased, Bumblebee grinned. Lifting his hands to his chest, Bumblebee activated a transformation. He brought out a familiar pair of stingers. But something was off. The top half of both stingers appeared to have been sliced off. It was only the bottom, which brought Jazz to wonder if someone had sliced Bumblebee's arm up in half. Until the familiar sound of gears shifting filled the air again.

In a shrieking whoosh of flying sparks, Jazz flinched away slightly, shielding his visored optics. After a moment, he chanced a look, expecting to see Bumblebee in pain of some sort. His back went stiff as he stared at the somewhat stoic mech, a small smile on his faceplate. Two long blades, about the length of his entire upper arm, flashed slightly as he tilted his arm slightly. The blade took up the space where the top half of his stinger once was. Confusing yet again. He tilted his head, until a whirring sound started up.

And suddenly sparks shot up the blade, trickling off the tips and onto the floor where they sparked around until fading out. The vibrant, golden color had his optics drawn, and locked onto the blade. Completely unaware that Bumblebee was on the other end of the sparking long sword.

Until his concentration was broke with a giggle from the younger.

"They're on low, so the shock won't do much more than possibly paralyze you. Nothing to worry about. You really should power up your weapon..." He motioned a bladed stinger towards the still offline weapon, a devilish smirk playing on his face, as he crouched down. "Don't make this _too _easy by drooling over my gear instead of minding your surroundings, ninjabot." He sprung up in the air, and disappeared into the rafters above. Jazz, a little shocked and confused, hesitated before fallowing.

He jumped up, grabbed onto one of the bars, and pulled himself up. Glancing around the maze of metal for a moment. Not a sign of the younger mech anywhere. His voice drifted through the area, Jazz found he couldn't pinpoint the source. It seemed as if it was coming from _everywhere. _Or possibly _nowhere._ "You know something, Jazz, on my travels..." The mech flinched as he felt a breeze pass over his shoulder, he quickly looked, but could see nothing. Nothing at all. He couldn't even _sense _Bumblebee anymore. It's as if he _disappeared_. "I met this mech, a racer, his name was _Mirage_." Jazz suddenly found himself tumbling forward, quickly he grabbed onto a nearby rafter, and caught himself from falling. His arm joins locked painfully from the odd position he now dangled from.

"I also met a friend of his, named _Hound_." A flash of color, of _blue_. Jazz stared, blinking, perhaps his optics were playing tricks on him? Yeah. That's it. He pulled himself back up, and glanced around.

"When you're traveling the galaxy, you meet a lot of..._colorful _creatures." Jazz stumbled backwards, a sudden bright light from an area in front of him disorienting him. It disappeared as quickly as it appeared, as if never there. Okay...this is starting to make him a _little _bit nervous. And paranoid. He glanced around every which way, looking for the hiding mech, scanning for his signal, for a spark signature, _anything._ He came up with nothing. All scanners pointed to him being complete, and utterly _alone _in the room.

"They have a lot of tricks...but one thing that I'm sure no Autobot in their right mind would be...their battle reflexes keep them from ever..." A pressure against both his shoulders, Jazz found himself tumbling from the rafters. With something. He hit the ground with a loud, echoing _crashing clank_ of metal against metal and tumbled over. "...fighting..." He caught a small, barley noticeable shift in his field of vision. A shift in the air. And suddenly he was pinned down, a weight on his chest and arms pinned under him.

Slowly, Bumblebee smirking face materialized before him, all radars suddenly picked the golden mech up again.

"...fair."

Jazz stared at him in shock, and Bumblebee smiled innocently, shifting slightly. It wasn't until that small movement, that Jazz realized he had a rather large, menacingly _sparking _blade pressed to his throat. He slowly lifted his hands, weapon-free, above his head. Surrendering. Bumblebee was off him in the blink of an eye, and before Jazz could even register it, he was being pulled up by the giddy-looking mech. One up-right, Bumblebee patted him on the shoulder; "Good spar! Same time tomorrow! 'Night!" And _skipped _out the room, happily humming to himself. The very _image _of innocence.

Jazz stared after him, too shocked to say or do anything.

He blinked his optics under his visor, twitched a bit, and frowned. After a moment, a smile played over his lips, and he picked up his nunchucks.

"Crafty lil' 'Bee. Can't wait to see how the _others _react to this suddenly change." He sighed, chuckled softly as he walked, and placed his weapons back in it's place on the weapons wrack. "Guess you won't need us protectin' ya anymore..."

"Nah...if anything...we're going ta hafta protect others _from _ya...quit growing up so fast."

Bumblebee popped his head in the door, giving Jazz a funny look. "Well...I _was _going to ask you if you wanted to go out and get a drink...but if you're, y'know, too busy _talking to yourself _that's fine with me." His head disappeared back around the corner, and Jazz sputtered. "W-Wait! I wasn't talkin' to myself! And yes! I do! Wait up!"

Jazz took off running across the room, hissing lightly as the area where he and 'Bee landed gave off sparks. He shoved it aside.

"Wait up!"

"I'm leaving without yoooou~"

"BUMBLEBEE!"

* * *

**Authors Notes:: **I didn't forget! See! You all know I love you! D:

Sorry it took me so long to update, busy busy. If this Chapter confused you a bit, it's because it's _supposed to_. No worries! Everything will be explained eventually! Especially with someone as curious as Jazz around! Yet another familiar, yet _new to the story _Character will be introduced next update. Along with a few hints at Bumblebee's more _personal_ life since the War.

Stay tuned!

**Disclaimer: **Transformers does not belong to me, nor do any of it's Characters.


	11. Change

_"So...you're leaving then?" _

_He stared at her, and she stared right back. A frown on her features, arms crossed, she hovered in the air behind him, watching him as he packed. He frowned back, and shrugged, before turning forward again to finish his packing. "I have no place here. You're going home, too, aren't you?" She blinked her large, blue eyes, and tilted her head slightly to the right. Red hair bobbing along with it. "'Too'? What do you mean? I thought _Cybertron _was your home...?" The yellow mech gave her a blank look for a minute, before chuckling._

_"You avoided the question." "You're avoiding mine." _

_They stared at each-other for a while, before Bumblebee vented a sigh. "Look, Sari...it's as I said...I have no place here. Before I joined the Autobots to become an Elite Guard...I had little to nothing. And now I have nothing. So there is not reason to stay...and I don't want to...this place doesn't feel like home." Sari frowned deeper at him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You could always come back to Earth. Stay with me and Dad." He glanced back at her, and smiled solemnly . "Thanks...maybe I will some day but...not now." He shrugged his other shoulder, gaining a goofy grin. "Besides! Even though I was positive I'd be an Elite Guard some day, I always told myself that if I didn't make it - which I was sure I would - that I would travel. Now's as good a time as any. Maybe I'll find another planet of humans. Or maybe those creepy aliens from Alien Verses Predator." He made a face. "On second thought...I don't want to find those." _

_Sari giggled, Bumblebee smiled at her. "I'll miss you." She finally said, almost immediately sober. He wrapped a hand around her, pulled her into a hug._

_"I'll miss you too."_

_... _

"I hate Tuesdays..."

The look on Jazz's face when Bumblebee said that, was almost enough to make the golden mech feel better. _Almost_. Jazz slowly smiled at his grouchy roommate, from where they sat in his "dining room" drinking their morning Energon, staring out a window at the acid rain falling down and preventing them from leaving. It didn't bother Jazz, being stuck in here all day, but apparently Bumblebee had some place to be. And wasn't looking forward to driving through that. Or running, apparently. Since he had made it clear that would be what he had to do.

The mech had his violet optics narrowed, glaring at the window as if willing it to disappear, and take the weather along with it.

"Don't go, then." The ninjabot offered, Bumblebee turned to glare at him, before thunk-ing his head down against the surface of table between them. "I have to go...the...mech I'm going to be seeing is leaving tomorrow, so I can't go see him then. Jazz grinned at him, and teasingly asked; "What happened to having no plans today?" Bumblebee grumbled something, before lifting his head. "This was before I was contacted and informed he would be leaving." Jazz raised an optic ridge under his visor. "But...didn' ya say no one has your comm. frequency? But me..only because ya contacted me." Bumblebee glanced to him. "It's a private comm. For...personal matters."

Jazz grinned wider. "So a frequency I'll never hear from or of?" Bumblebee smirked at him. "Pretty much." He sat back in his chair, and sighed. "But now that I think about it...give my frequency to anyone who may need it. Like my old team, or the guard or somethin'. I keep forgetting to." He leaned forward and looked to the nearby clock. "I should have given it to Bulkhead. Or at _least _Optimus." Jazz chuckled, and shook his head. "No worries, 'Bee. If Optimus wants ta get into contact with ya, all he's gotta do is say. He's pretty high ranking now, y'know. And from what you told me last night, he could probably get it fro 'Jumper."

"Don't remind me..."

With an irritated sigh, Bumblebee stood. "Well, got's'ta go. See you later." He turned and started towards the door, Jazz waved him off. Without hesitation, he palmed the door open and jumped outside, as soon as his pedes touched the ground he was sprinting through the rain. It sizzled as droplets landed on his armor, he didn't even wince, and kept moving. His pedes slipped and nearly made him slide as he stepped through puddles, jumped over small, fallen structures, and kept running as fast as his pedes could carry him.

To many he passed by, all they could see through their windows of safety was a golden blur and the splash of acid as it was kicked into the air.

His expression was anything but serious, more of a panicked, wide optic'd expression as he flung himself around corners, over, under, around anything in his trying to slip out from under hims at random. Thankfully, soon enough he was sliding to a stop, desperately hitting a door panel, and jumping into the old warehouse-like building. Once in, and no longer getting rained on, he began to shake around trying to get the droplets of acid off his armor before they ate and hissing; "Ow. ow. ow. ow. owowowowowow!"

He finally calmed down, partly dried off, armor covered in black specks here and there. The room lit in the violet glow of optics.

"Well, there you are!" Bumblebee rolled his optics at the "excited" sound of the voice. Leave it to him to be able to get that voice to sound so excited, if he was it would only be because of the profit he would gain from this all. "Nice acting." The gold mech grumbled, crossing his arms and gaining a look of stern seriousness. "Is he here?" The eerie glow of optics, and seemingly bleach white denta were all that could be seen in the room, the other smiled. "Yeah, he's here. Got to warn you though, he is far from gentle. So...don't expect this not to hurt like the Pit." The smiled vanished, optics shuttered for a moment, bathing the room in black until they were fully powered up again.

"I don't care if it hurts." "Says the mech who was just jumping around going; 'Ow. ow. ow. ow. owowow!'" The smile appeared in the slight glow again, Bumblebee narrowed his optics. "Can we just get this over with?" "Sure! No need to leave th customer waiting! Don't get mad at me if you regret this though, I warned you~" Bumblebee rolled his optics again, and fallowed the glow into the back of the building.

...

"Hey Roddy~" Rodimus twitched, glancing over his shoulder as Jazz practically came skipping towards him. He narrowed his optics suspiciously as the ever-grinning mech. "What." He finally inquired, raising an optics ridge as the grin grew wider, which he was sure hadn't been possible. "Y'know were Hot Shot ran off ta?" The ninjabot asked, leaning side to side, bound his hips side to side in a little stand still dance as he awaited his response. Rodimus tilted his head to the right, making a small jerking motion. "Over there, with Ironhide, training. Why-" Rodimus jumped slightly at the internal beep of arriving information...from Jazz. He frowned confusedly, and opened it.

The message was a comm. frequency number.

"What's-" "Bumblebee's new frequency. If ya wanna talk to him." With that, the visor-ed mech skipped off. Rodimus stared at him as he pranced over to Hot Shot and Ironhide, jumping the latter of the two, Hot Shot broke into laughter. Rodimus glanced to the ground in thought, stepping slightly away as he noticed the acid puddle from the storm earlier that morning mere inches from his pedes. With a sigh, he turned with the intent on walking over and joining the other three where they stood.

"HOT ROD!"

Before he could reacted, arms of gold and black wrapped around him and he found himself falling forward, stumbling, before finally landing face-first on the ground. With a grumble, a mumble, and an irritated sigh, Rodimus lifted himself off the ground as the weight on his back disappeared. "Hey, Bumblebee." He mumbled, poking at his slightly dented nose. "How did you know it was me?" Came the sulky reply, he still didn't turn to look at the mech, he could practically see the pout without looking. "Only you and Hot Shot still calls me that, and Hot Shot's over there helping Jazz hug Ironhide to death."

Bumblebee gasped, no doubt smiling. "I want to join!" Rodimus caught sight of a pede as Bumblebee stood, a hand against his shoulder and soon he was being hoisted up...rather easily. Wait...hoisted? Easily? Rodimus spun to get his first look at Bumblebee in a long time, and nearly went into stasis lock at the sight. Though mostly because he had to tilt his head back slightly to see the mechs _faceplate. _Light blue optics locked with brilliant gold, and a smile spread over the taller mechs snow-white faceplate.

Bumblebee stood about a head taller, more so, maybe. Rodimus looked forward, straight forward, and found himself staring at Bumblebee's chassis, level with his shoulders. How did the kid go from being crotch height to being _taller _than almost everyone? After all...Rodimus took pride in the fact he's _taller _than Optimus Prime...now...he felt undeniably short. He glanced back into those golden optics. "Didn't you used to be a minibot?" He inquired, Bumblebee seemed amused. "Didn't you used to be one of the tallest mechs in the Elite Guard?" He grinned, poking Rodimus in the forehead.

There was a whistle, and Jazz could be heard calling; "Dangit 'Bee! Quit growing!" The golden mech almost broke down laughing, but somehow managed to hold it in a simply grin. A large, toothy grin.

Bumblebee stood proud, waving at Jazz as he sported his new armor. He had finally gotten his upgrade, his _proper _upgrade, and not a mismatched rebuild. Everything but his helm, anything. Which still looked rather mismatched. It curved forward at the bottom, similar to how the bottom half of an old Seeker helm would look, round audio receptors of some sort on the side, he still has his horns - of course. The twitched slightly, probably able to move around considering the straight forward angle of them now, it they always stayed that straight up it would cause problems. They were shaped kind of weird anyway.

And a crest that looked like one of the crests on Prowl's helms...only upside down for some reason. And painted differently. His hels main color appeared to be gold, with black markings, the horns black, with black pointed streaks on the edge. The upside down crest colored geyscale, the center of the crest being dark gray - almost black - and the edges to it a silver-gray. Golden optics, and a white faceplate. His neck still black, as usual. His chest armor now looked like a hood, golden with various black markings, blue-gray headlights and windshields. He had a collar just before the chestplate, it made it look as if he was wearing a really thick choker.

Doorwings, golden, black, the inside gray-white. His shoulders sat with wheels still, though facing outward, you could see the wide and the rim from the front of his body. The tires black, with a white stripe fallowing the outer edge. His shoulder armor appeared to be the form around the tire from his vehicle mode, gold and black like the rest of his armor. You could see his door rear-view mirrors right in front of his doorwings, moving with or opposite of them.

His upper arm black, his lower arm armor gold and black, his hands up to his knuckles black, his fingers white. Crotch and hip-plates the same as the rest. Formed strangely, his hips plates looked similar to that of the jettwins. His crotch-plate looked similar to a sort of...fin? Maybe a plant?

Long legs black until the knee pads, golden and black as usual, the way his leg armor was made from there down to his pedes gave it a look of boots, as it he wore knee-high boots, which brought a small smile to Rodimus' faceplate. Neatly formed feet, and his hind tires appeared to be angled like they would be in car mode, against the ground ready to take off, and they played the part of his heel. His doorwings fluttered slightly, and he gave Rodimus a curious look, horns tilting slightly to the left along with his helm.

It gave him a vague picture of one of those small earth animals...what are they calls? Cots? Cets? Cats?

"Like what you see?" Bumblebee teased, elbowing the smaller mech. Rodimus scoffed before turning and finishing his walk towards the other three. They had stopped staring and now it seemed to be Ironhide and Hot Shot trying to tackle Jazz, who kept dodging and giggling as they faceplanted the dirt. Bumblebee, in a burst of speed no one expected anyone to ever have, was to them in a split second, shouting a battle cry as he tackled Jazz, Ironhide, and Hot Shot in one pounce. With roars of laughter the four of them tumbled along the ground.

Rodimus stared at the mass of tangled limbs in mild amusement, when Bumblebee suddenly popped his head out from somewhere in the center. "Hey! Where's Huffer? He's gonna a blow a gasket when he sees me now!" In a show of agility, the golden mech quickly wormed his way out of the tangle of limbs, without a struggle, and started heading in a random direction. Rodimus ran after her; "Don't make him go into stasis lock! We have a mission we need to complete later! I need him functional!"

Jazz, Ironhide, and Hot Shot struggled for a few moments.

"Either of you got anything even remotely free and movable?"

"No."

"Nope."

"Uh-oh."

* * *

**Authors Notes: **Sorry if this seems rushed, it is. It's been storming here a lot lately, which makes it hard to update since our power keeps going out. I haven't had much time to write. I've been multitasking a lot lately, so sorry this is late!

I'm also trying to update all of my other stories, but can't be on very long, so I'm writing at least two stories at a time, if not three. Sorry!

Hope you enjoy! Bumblebee's got a new look; ht tp : / / crosse-tales .deviantart . com / art / Phenomenon - Bee - 2 - 201416089


	12. Late Night

_It had been on a dare, one Bluestreak and I had begun to regret upon seeing the eerie green liquid being poured before our faceplate. We turned to stare at each other, Bluestreak's mask of worry was enough to make my smile fade. But, everyone knows I don't wimp out on dares, it's a matter of Pride! So, with a newly placed grin, I take the substance in hand as the bartender, a tall, brown and green mech - reminds me of Lockdown, actually - pushes it towards me. I turn to Bluestreak, intending to "cheer" then chug it. He shakes his helm at me._

_"Don't do it, 'Bee." Not the type of cheers I was hoping for. "Seriously, I've only ever heard of __one__ mech downing Tonix as his first High-Grade." I'm vaguely aware that "Tonix", with the right swapping, could also spell "Toxin". "Really, what happened to him?" Bluestreak - a usually lay-back Datsun with a love for speed - has never had an expression as serious as the one he gave me at that moment. "In short; It was Starscream." That did make me hesitate, though I'm not quite sure what he meant by that. Was it what made the Seeker insane? Gave him a death wish? Perhaps it was the cause of his raspy voice? I had half a mind to ask, but I had more than half that was afraid to find out._

_With a shrug, I swirled the substance and prepared to chug it. "Bumblebee, listen to me. That isn't something you want to chug! Even mechs _used _to drinking that slag get sick off it! Listen to me, your friend, and _don't chug it_." I smiled at him, and he glared at my amusement. I patted him on the shoulder, putting the cube to my lips. "No worries, Blue'. I'll be fine! I'm sure I've had worse things happen than chugging Toxi-uh...Tonix." Bluestreak raised an optic ridge at me, and with a wink, I tilted my head up quickly, before he could say another word, and half in one gulp._

_The next thing I know, I'm waking up to find myself pressed face-to-face with a very distressed Bluestreak, complaining about how his doorwings are twisted uncomfortably and his body isn't built to withstand so much added weight. It doesn't take me long to realize we're trapped under a _very _bulky black mech, bulky _unconscious _mech. Bluestreak is sandwiched between us, and the moment my optics lit up his, he glared at me._

"And _that _is why I don't drink high-grade, ever. It turns out the stuff wasn't even the _potent _kind, it shouldn't have done more than give me a strong, quick buzz and a hangover. It effected me like the regular stuff would a weighted mech. Eugh. It took two mechs - some ninjabot who's name I didn't catch, and a noble named _Mirage_ - to get the mech off us." Bumblebee grinned, flicking Jazz's cube and watching the high-grade swirl. "Apparently I got into a bar brawl - like a _bar fight _but bigger, and more disastrous - and the mech on top of us was someone who had intended to _shoot me_. Bluestreak grabbed his gun, and was thrown into me. We fell, he fell, and his high consumption of high-grade finally kicked it. He fell asleep. I apparently was delusional for a few minutes before passing out, too." Jazz slid it away from him. "Bluestreak was not amused, neither was the bar tender or the Guards in that sector. The ninjabot laughed then left, Mirage gave us a lecture. Apparently he was part of the Guard."

Jazz downed his cube, probably so Bumblebee would quit playing with it. The golden mech just started playing with Hot Shot's - who sat on his other side - but the low-grade just didn't had that interesting swirl to it, like high-grade did. "By the way, Jazz, Mirage is who I got the tech that allows me to go invisible from." The golden mech coughed lightly, tilting to look across Hot Shot over to Rodimus and Ironhide, the latter of the two seemed only half-conscious as he chugged his _fifth _cube. "...Don't mention it if you ever see him, though. Uh...I wasn't supposed to tell anyone!" Jazz tilted his head to look at the younger mech, frowning.

"Anyway!" Bumblebee grinned, turning to Hot Shot. "Why don't _you _drink high-grade, Hot Shot?" The yellow and blue mech perked, turning from staring off into space to look at Bumblebee. "Hm? Oh, I can't drink it." He looked down at his cube, swirling it with a rust stick. "Last time I drank high-grade, I woke up in the med-bay with a Fine for apparently setting the bar on fire." He lifted the rust stick, placing it to his lips as he seemed to think something over. "Apparently - according to Red Alert - high-grade messes with my systems and causes me to loose control over my flames. And apparently it has..." He coughed, looking anywhere but the mechs gathered around, listening. "_Explosive _effects. High-grade and fire don't mix. Let's leave it at that." He went back top stirring his low-grade.

Everyone stared at him for a moment, before finally; "Wait...shouldn't any type of Energon have that _same _effect, if combined with fire?" Rodimus piped up, raising an optic ridge. Hot Shot shrugged. "Dunno. M'not a medic. Ask Red Alert." Jazz reached over, and slid Hot Shot's cube away from him. The pyro said nothing, simply stared at his cube-less hand, and lingering rust stick, before sighing.

"Oil should have the same outcome, too."

"Shut up and drop it, Rodimus."

"Makes you kinda wonder how Hot Shot's body works."

Rodimus let out a snicker as Hot Shot slammed his head against the bar, embarrassed. "Even _Ah _caught th' double meanin' in _tha_' sentence, Jazz." The ninjabot looked confused for a moment, probably a haze from his high-grade. After a moment, he snorted and copied Hot Shot's move of slamming his head into the bar. "Ahh...sorry mech. Th' one time ah was tryin' _not _ta have somethin' come out tha' way, too!" Everyone stared at him for a minute, before bursting into laughing fits themselves. "He does it so often, it just comes natural!" Rodimus choked out, Bumblebee hooted and hit Jazz on the back.

"You really should stop that, Jazz. Everyone's gonna think you're a dirty old mech!" The golden mech giggled, wrapping his arm around his own stomach, as if the laughing had become painful. "Haa, I did always wonder who Prowl got his little slip-ups from." Dead silence, everyone turned to stare at Bumblebee - everyone aside from Jazz, anyway, who started snickering rather loudly against the bar surface. In all seriousness, Rodimus leaned forward, and smirked. "Oh, you so have to tell us now, Bumblebee." Hot Shot perked up, grinning. "Tell us! I'm curious now!" Even Ironhide seemed interested, as aware and interested as an over-charged mech _could _seem, anyway.

"Nooo-hoo. No." Bumblebee grinned, waving his hand at them. "If I say _anything _I will end up as an eternal target in the afterlife. I will be picking ninja stars from my aft-plate and optic for centuries to come! No, sorry, but no. Ask Ratchet, he tended to be around. He'll probably have no reason not to tell you. He hasn't been ninja'd by Prowl!" Bumblebee paused, and frowned. "Speakin' of which, sorry mechs!" The gold mech stood, grinning at his comrades.

"Places to go, 'bots to see, see ya'll around!"

Rodimus and Ironhide, confused, simply gave him a small wave before. Hot Shot waved his arm over-enthusiastically, grinning. Jazz blew him a kiss, before suddenly glomping Hot Shot, who let out a short, but high-pitched yelp.

"You're all crazy..." With a smile, Bumblebee exited the bar, and started down the road. "I was s'posed to go see him earlier today." His white faceplate twisted into a frown. "Ah, who cares. We're already on bad terms as it is, he can get mad for all I care. The glitch." A moment of silence passed, and he sighed, opening up his comm.

::WHERE ARE YOU?::

A lesser mech would have flinched at the sound of such an irritating, well-known voice.

* * *

**Authors Notes:: **Sorry it took me so long to update, and sorry if this chapter is a bit confusing. It was only half done, and I forgot where I was going with it...so I improvised.

Bet'cha can't guess who 'Bee's talkin' to!

**Disclaimer: **Transformers does not belong to me, nor do any of it's Characters.


	13. Mem

_"Are you almost done?" Primus, if he asked that __one more time__! "No. __**I'm not**__. So shut up and let me __**concentrate**__." Ignoring the annoying little golden mech behind him - currently giving him quite a look of bemusement - the gold and black mech went back to his job._

_Hacking into the Mainframe of an Organization Intel. Which was anything but easy, with off the Firewalls, Codes, Monitoring, and Primus knows what else. Or what would happen if someone caught him linking to steal info. He didn't even want ti imagine what types of viruses and errors the thing could cause if it detecting a hostility in it's system. And decided to bite back. Of course, the nagging from his 'Boss' was not helping him avoid that outcome. Not. At. All._

_"Are you done-" Swiping around, grabbing his 'Boss' by the neck, the golden and black Mech hisses in his face. "Finish that sentence and I will rip out your spark through your aft and __**force it down your throat**__." Staring back with wide, violet optics, the host replied; "...Okay.." Glaring, before dropping him, the taller mech went back to work, quite relieved that his brief moment away hadn't reset the systems, or caused him to be victim to detection. He quickly got back to work, typing away and focusing on the quickly appearing streams of data._

_A few moments later, the Hacker sat straight with a triumphant "Ha-HA!" Pressing a few keys and ejecting a disk of sorts, he spun to face the other with a victorious grin. "Got the Data." He held the disk out to the other. "Now give me my pay so I can bail before we get caught." With a nod, the Mech reached for the disk, offering his payment at the same time. Swiping the payment, and handing off the disk. The Hack turned towards the door and proceeded to stride to it._

_"Oh," The Mech across the room piped in as he was mere inches from the door. "Thank you for your services,"_

Golden optics snapped online with a gasp, flashing near white for a second before refocuses in and taking on their usual glow hue. With a look of confusion, Bumblebee stared straight ahead for a moment, before glancing to the side and seeing a highly amused Jazz sitting on the floor. Beside him...?

"Yo, 'Bee. 'Bout time ya woke up! I've been screamin' at ya for an hour!" Shuttering his optics in confusion a few times, he frowned at Jazz, trying to focus on that smug grin. "...Oh." The couch...that explains the discomfort. The neck stiffness. The feeling of being low to the ground. And the blare of the news coming form above his head. Looking around for a moment, before focusing back on Jazz, a lazy smile creep-ed into Bumblebee's features. "Oops...?"

Jazz laughed at him, before standing up and offering a hand. "C'mon, lazeh, how 'bout some mornin' oil to wake ya up?" Taking the hand and being pulled to his feet, Bumblebee went to thank him for the help, only to squawk indignantly as Jazz wrapped an arm around his waist, jerked him against his side, and started awkwardly half-dragging him towards the table. "Jazz." Bumblebee grumbled, as Jazz happily walked in long strides, making it near impossible for the golden-yellow mech to keep in step. "Get yer hand off my aft..." The Autobot Elite's only response was a chuckle.

He didn't move his hand, not until they arrived at the table and he proceeded to shove Bumblebee into a chair before prancing off. Groggy, he ignored the crazy music-loving mech's antics and face-planted the table with a tired groan.

He jumped when a sudden thump hit the table across him, accompanied by a tired, agonized groan.

Slowly tilting his head up, Bumblebee checked to see who it was. Because Jazz, had been anything but anodized. Agonizingly annoying, maybe, but fine himself. Coming face-to-face with _Rodimus _was not what he expected. He stared at the face-down Prime for a moment, contemplating asking what was up. Against possible better judgment, he spoke up; "You alright there, Rodi?" A fleeting moment of silence passed, before the young Officer responded with long groan of pain.

"...Guess not?" Bumblebee offered, a sheepish grin on his features.

"Please stop talking. I hate Jazz. And I hate light. And I hate everything right now. And _Primus my head..._" He lifted his hands to his head, draping them over and cradling it from the back, face still against the table. Jazz came walking back about then, his usual happy self. Setting a tray of four cubes on the table, he took up a seat next to Bumblebee. "C'mon now, Rod. This'll help that hangover!" He picked up a cube, and offered it.

Rodimus tilted up his heat, and gave him a glare, reaching out and snatching the cube before standing up, and staggering off into the living room.

"Jeez, grumpy!" Jazz grinned at the departing mech, before looking back to Bumblebee, and shoving a cube into his face. Pausing, staring, the golden-yellow mech reached up and took the cube offered to him. "Thanks." Jazz simply grinned, before picking up a cube of his own and chugging more than half down in one go. "Hot Shot's here too, though ah git this feelin' he might sleep in." Raising an optic ridge, Bumblebee gave him a look.

"...So last night was fun, I take it?" Jazz looked at him. "Slag yes! Ironhide drank Hot Shot under th' table, Rodimus drank so much he passed out, it was quite a parteh!" Looking accomplished, Jazz took another swig from his cube. Looking up, and out the door at Rodimus, who had claimed the couch, and practically crushed the remote to turn off the Video News feed, Bumblebee made a bewildered face.

"What are they doing here?" Looking back to Jazz, that optic ridge was raised again. Jazz shrugged. "Like I said, Rodi' passes out, none 'o us were quite...in th' right last night. We couldn' remember where he lived. So Hot Shot helped me carry him here. Dunno where Ironhide went...guess Hot Shot stayed." With a chuckle, Jazz sipped his cube again. "...Sounds fun." Standing, and gulping down his cube, Bumblebee spun around. "Anyway, I have somewhere I'm supposed to be."

Jazz looked up to him, and grinned. "Busy, ain't ya? Nothing but runnin' around sense ya got back." There was a hint of...suspicious in that voice. Turning, and grinning, Bumblebee replied; "I was missed." Before striding across the room, offering a wave to Rodimus - who glared at him in return and grudgingly sipped his cube. With a chuckle, he keyed open the door and walked out.

"See ya tonight, 'Bee!" Jazz called, leaning to wave goodbye to him. Bumeblee offered a salute before the door closed. And started off down the street. "Now for that date with a ninja I never got around to." A smirk spread across his features as he picked up his pace. "Hope I don't get dumped for being a little late."

* * *

**Authors Notes:: **Sorry this is late. The chapter is a bit uneventful, calm, more of an average day feel to it. Hope you enjoy! I'll try to get them up quicker... a lot has been going on recently, but it's calming down.

**Disclaimer; **Transformers does not belong to me, nor do their characters.


	14. Consideration

Prowl was bristling.

The minor tempter tantrum the black and gold mech seemed to be experiencing had been..._amusing _at first, if nothing else. Upon on-lining, he had taken up glaring at Optimus, who had settled down near the foot of his berth and currently busied himself with filling out one of the _many _datapads he had carried in. So far, Prime had managed to remain oblivious to the leveled glare, despite the fact it just _radiated _a pure intent of violence. Be it soon, or later one. Ratchet was just _waiting _for him to snap at someone, pounce them, rip them limb from limb, then curl on his berth and snarl at any unfortunate passerby's.

Optimus glance up, and for a second Ratchet almost believed his young former-Commander had taken notice of the glare. However, that hope was shattered as a smile crossed his face, and he turned to look at the door. Before Ratchet could even think to inquire why he was smiling at the ugly, discolored, warped hunk of metal, it shifted aside and revealed a brightly colored gold and black mech, grinning like an idiot.

"Welcome back, Bumblebee." Optimus provided, before swiftly returning to his datapads. Offering the mech a somewhat bewildered look as he entered, grin never fading, Bumblebee fluttered his doorwings. "I brought giiiifts!" He crooned, waving a torn and tattered "duffel bag" in the air. The very same bag he had hefted in upon his return, and carried off on his departure. Ratchet raised an optic ridge at him, an expression of questioning that went completely ignored as Bumblebee hopped up and down on the spot, looking around the room. Frowning for a second after failing to spot the mech he was deemed worthy of his first gift - who all could assume would be Bulkhead - he flicked a left doorwing and skipped over to Optimus.

Now, while oblivious to glaring, Optimus actually payed attention when one spoke to him. Which Bumblebee did,_ loudly_. "Ooooooptimusssssss!" He sing-songed along as he hovered over the seated mech, digging through his bag at the same time. He was given an hummed reply and a brief glance upward in his direction. Deciding he'd have none of that, 'Bee snatched the datapad from his former-Commander's hand, and shoved a poorly wrapped object in the startled, opened hands.

Taking a moment to process what had just happened, Optimus tilted his head downward to look at said object. He blinked at the thing, prodded it slightly, then looked up the give the grinning mech a curious look. "Don't just look at it! Open it! OPEN IT!" Hopping slightly higher to add emphases to the last command, he shoved the gift closer. Optimus poked at it, and the wrapped suddenly unraveled at the prodding. He took a moment to stare at the kit in his lap, before looking back up and into golden optics.

Bumblebee immediately went into an explanation; "Well, I remember how you used to mention how you needed a kit to better care for your...axe-thingy." He waved his hand in the air upon mention of said 'axe-thingy'. And continued. "So while I was out and about I came across this one, and picked it up for ya! I didn' know I was gonna come back to find you some High-Commanding Officer or whatever, you probably don't need it now but...hey! Thought that counts!" He pursed his lips in concentration, tilting his head to the right in thought. "Come to think of it, I really should have known that was gonna happen..."

"Anyway!" He threw his hands into the air, slinging his back up with them and nearly whacking both himself and Optimus with it. With a spin on his heel, and sped across the room, skidding to a stop before an unflinching, unamused Ratchet. Rustling through his bag, he shoved a small, round object into his hands. "I suggest opening it later." Bumblebee grinned, earning a suspicious look from the older mech. Ignoring said look, Bumblebee bolted across the room.

He stopped before Prowl, who scowled at him. Bumblebee offered him a grin. Rummaging through, he _politely _offered the seething cycle-former his gift, a small, rectangular shape. Taking it, Prowl glanced it over, before inclining his head towards Bumblebee. "Opeeeeen iiiiit!" Bumblebee urged, practically bouncing again. Expressionless for that moment, Prowl turned to his gift and gently, cleanly pulled the wrapping paper off. It slid off to reveal a vibrant, forest green datapad. A moment, and Prowl looked at him _again. _The golden yellow mech waved his hands at him. "Turn it on!" The grin on his face was so enthusiastic it almost _hurt_. So without farther prodding, Prowl turned on the datapad.

Everyone watched as he scrolled through the datapad, expression gradually changing from more-or-less emotionless, to a small smile. Which slowly got just a little bigger, before he powered down his optics, visor dimming, and turned the datapad off. Venting a slow, even sigh, he glanced up to the younger mech. Hyper-ness subsiding, Bumblebee stood calmly beside him, watching carefully as he chewed somewhat nervously on his bottom lip. He had, at some point, sat down on a small berth-side stool. And was now only a hear taller than Prowl.

Prowl tilted his head towards him, smiling kindly, however small that smile may be. "First of all; stop that. You're going to bite through your lip." Unexpectedly, Bumblebee did as he was told almost immediately, running his glossa over the bite mark, still awaiting Prowl's response to his gift. "And thank you." His smile softened. "This is, quite honestly, the best gift I've ever gotten. I really appreciate your consideration." Bumblebee brightened, smiling happily as doorwings fluttered.

Prowl's smile faded as he sat the datapad aside. "Also, I apologize for what I'm about to do." Blinking bright golden optics in confusion, Bumblebee opened his mouth to inquire what he meant. His question cut into a loud, indignant squawk, however, as Prowl _tackled _him off his stool, both landing on the floor with a sickening _clack_. Bumblebee proceeded to flail hopelessly as Prowl strangled him. Lack of actual need for air aside, it not only hurt, but cut off proper flow from the body to the helm. And was quite distressing when you're attacker, despite usually being reformed and stoic, was _snarling in your face_.

Bumblebee let out a strangled cry for help as Ratchet crossed his arms, and watched. Finally prying himself from his datapad for more than a few moments, Optimus glanced over at the squabble. He gave Ratchet a questioning glance. He got a shrug; "He's been dead for a while. Got to give him time to adapt to having emotions again. Not to mention, being stuck in there to constantly be poked, prodded, and question by either Wheeljack or Perceptor? Of course he's grouchy." The medic huffed. "Who _wouldn't _be?" Giving the pair a lingering glance, Ratchet vented a sigh. Optimus opened his mouth to worriedly offer his opinion on letting Prowl 'work it out of his systems' or something, but Ratchet intervened.

"If you want him off, _you _do it. I'm not getting anywhere _near him_."

Before Optimus could reply, Bumblebee managed to struggle away enough to cry out a somewhat garbled; "HELP ME!" As he flailed his arms uselessly in-front of him, trying to pull and crawl away from the currently very _vicious _bike.

In all honesty, this made _no sense _to Optimus. But, deciding he wasn't a Medic, nor a Scientist, he left it alone. And just put faith in Ratchet's judgement.

Despite the choked, garbled pleas from the group's youngest.

* * *

**Authors Notes:: **Sorry this took so long! I couldn't really think of how to write out this chapter out. I'm sure some of you are wondering where Bulkhead is, that will likely be answered in the next chapter. I'm sure Bumblebee will start missing his friend once _someone _manages to get Prowl to stop trying to rip his face off.

Or, if all else fails, at least manages to pry him off. ;D

**Disclaimer:: **Transformers does not belong to me, nor do any of it's Characters.


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